Harry Potter and a Change of Future
by missmusicluver
Summary: Harry goes through his life like any Prophesied One would, but with a different love interest. (No Ginny-bashing, I just don't like their relationship in the books) Will start pretty Canon, but will progress to a different ending. How saving one life can shift fate to whole new direction. Starts at the beginning of the fourth book. Poll is up!
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome readers!**

**Firstly: the beginning of this will be heavily Canon, and if you find yourself reading over familiar words... it's because they are Rowling's words, not mine. I changed a lot of things here and there, but to begin with, a lot of it will be her words.**

**Secondly: The story will not all be Harry's point of view. Sometimes it will change. Later on, I will have a poll up asking if i should involve Lilly Evan's point of view looking down at her son wile he navigates his way through his life... not up yet, but it will be soon. Promise.**

**Thirdly: Enjoy** :)

* * *

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and most of the Weasly family walked together side by side as they entered the pitch where all the tents were set up for the Quidditch World cup.

They trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Most looked almost ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them look as muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell pulls, or weather vanes. However, here and there, there was a tent so obviously magical that Harry could hardly be surprised that the muggle guard Mr. Roberts, who was standing in the outskirts of the enormous grassy field, was getting suspicious.

Halfway up the field stood an extravagant confection of striped silk like a miniature palace, with several live peacocks tethered at the entrance. A little farther on they passed a tent that had a front garden attached, complete with birdbath, sundial and fountain.

"Always the same," Mr. Weasly said smiling. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us."

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was a pair of shabby two-man tents, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read WEEZLY.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasly happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be."

Nobody looking at the tents would guess they belonged to wizards, Harry thought, but the trouble was that once Bill, Charlie, and Percy arrived, they would be a party of _ten_. Hermione seemed to have spotted this problem too; she gave Harry a quizzical look.

"Right then! Well, why don't Ron, Harry and Hermione go and get us some water then-," Mr. Weasly handed them a kettle and some sauce pans, "-and the rest of us will get some wood for the fire?"

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just-"

"Ron! Anti-muggle security!" said Mr. Weasly, his face shinning in anticipation. "When real muggles camp, the cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

Ron looked to Harry and Hermione for backup, but Harry was too busy staring at the rest of the tents around them. It was just dawning on Harry how many witches and wizards there must be in the world; he had never really thought much about those in other countries.

"Oh alright," Ron said swinging the kettle in his hand. "S'pose we should just get it over with then." He elbowed Harry out of his staring and began to walk down the city of tents that stretched out around them in every direction.

The first thing Harry saw were the kids of the everyday wizarding family. Harry had never seen wizards and witches this young before and he couldn't help but stare. He saw two young witches, barely older than three, riding toy broomsticks that rose only high enough for their toes to touch the dewy grass. A ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past Harry, Ron and Hermione, he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in I suppose…"

Next Harry noticed the variety of Magic Folk that were gathered around, some using their wands to cook dinners, others using matches cautiously like they were expecting them to blow up in their faces. Three African wizards sat in serious conversation, all of them wearing long white robes and roasting what looked like a rabbit over a bright purple fire, while a group of middle-aged American witches sat gossiping happily beneath a spangled banner stretched between their tents that read: THE SALEM WITCHES INSTITUTE.

All around Harry, he heard snatches of conversation in different languages in excited voices. He barely noticed the sight of his fellow Gryffindor classmates Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan waving madly at them from a bright green tent down a couple of rows. Harry waved back grinning, before he caught sight of Cho Chang with her family a few tents down from Seamus's.

Cho met his eyes and smiled at him, and Harry smiled back, hoping he wasn't looking like a wanker. Oliver wood also noticed him and told him proudly that he had made the Puddlemere United Reserve team. Harry, being happy for his old Quidditch Captain, congratulated him before looking oddly at a large group of teenagers about his age that he had never seen before right beside Oliver's tent.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" Harry asked nodding to the group after walking away from Oliver. "They don't go to Hogwarts do they?"

"'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met one who went to one though. Bill had a pen-friend from Brazil once, but that was years and years ago.

"There's quite a couple actually," Hermione stated, looking completely unsurprised at the information. "Two Primary schools in America I think. One in Scotland of course, that's Hogwarts, but there's also one somewhere in France, Russia, South Africa-"

"Yea we know Hermione, a whole bunch of them," Ron said rolling his eyes, and stopping at a water fountain to fill up his kettle. "Honestly though, it's not that big of a surprise. There's a whole load of us in the world, where'd you think we learned it all. There's too many of us to just learn at Hogwarts."

Harry kept quiet that, no, he didn't know that. He was quite surprised that there could be a place somewhere out in the world that was like Hogwarts. He had just never thought about it.

The bunch of teenagers from across from them suddenly laughed very loudly at whatever they were talking about, and Harry heard a girl's voice rise above the others. "_No_, I didn't think that it would _EXPLODE._ I thought it would just… I don't know… rise a little." The accent was very clearly American.

Harry looked over at the group and saw two girls standing in the middle of the group dressed in matching muggle clothes for a change. One was taller than the other with long reddish-brown hair and she threw an arm around the shorter girl comfortably. "Yea, well what she _didn't_ know was that Mrs. J had stuffed the cake with shavings of a Red-Horned-Bullfrog."

The group surrounding them snickered and the shorter girl blushed to her roots. She held up her hands in defense. "How was _I_ supposed to know that it was highly explosive? _She_ was the one who asked me to move it!"

The taller girl rolled her eyes. "Your right, she said to _move_ it, not drop it on the table and make it _explode_." The taller girl looked around to the teens around her. "Well after that you can imagine the look of Hampton's face when he realized that his classroom was covered in Red-Horned-Bullfrog tasting cake."

The teens roared with laughter and the shorter girl rolled her eyes like she had been through this several times. "I didn't _mean_ to."

The taller girl looked like she was holding back a laugh. "Didn't stop Professor Hampton from suspending you from the Quidditch team for the next match though did it?"

"Oh shut up."

The taller girl laughed and looked up, suddenly meeting Harry's eyes. Harry stood shocked for half a second before he felt heat rise from his neck at being caught and looked away. Ron finished filling the kettle and Harry was glad for the distraction from the girl who was still staring at him.

"Ready?" Ron asked, holding up the kettle.

"Mhh," Harry nodded. "Let's get out of here." Ron led them away, and Harry could feel the gaze of the girl on his back as he retreated back to the tent.

* * *

Hermione watched Harry seem to shuffle away, and she looked back to what Harry had been staring at. A group of teens, probably no older than she, stood around in a circle laughing and joking, and she noticed one in particular staring off in the direction Harry and Ron were walking in.

Hermione saw her watch after her friends for a couple more moments before looking away and grinning at whatever her closest friend had said. Her eyes flickered back to Harry and Ron once more, but she only glanced at them for half of a moment before turning her back on them completely, and laughing with her friends.

Hermione watched her for a second longer, then hurried after Ron and Harry. She grimaced to herself at the thought of the stranger staring like that at Ro- … her friends. She didn't like thinking about having to compete mentally, or… physically at gaining Ron's attention and-

Hermione shook her head, mentally scolding herself at where her head was leading her. She often let her head guide her when it came to school work, but ever since seeing one of her best friends over the summer again, her head wasn't being the most trust worthy of things.

She caught up with Ron and Harry and followed behind them, lost in her own thoughts.

* * *

Harry noticed a lot of white, green, and red flags hanging off tents openings and caught himself staring again at the wizarding tents. "Er- is it just me, or am I seeing a lot of the same colors?" Harry asked frowning.

Ron grinned. "No, we're just going through the Bulgarian fan tents."

Hermione squinted at the tents. "I wonder what the Bulgarians have got all over their tents."

Ron's grin got wider. "Krum."

"What?" said Hermione.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Victor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker!"

Harry now noticed the large moving posters that were covering the sides of all the Bulgarian tents. It showed a man with a very surly face and heavy black eyebrows scowling and blinking at everyone that passed and he noticed Hermione staring too.

"He looks really grumpy," Hermione commented quietly.

Ron looked at Hermione incredulously, like he couldn't quite believe that had come out of her mouth. Harry thought this seemed like a good time to lead his friends back to the tent before Ron came out of his stupor and said something he would regret later. Nonetheless, Ron was muttering under his breath as they all walked back.

"'_Really grumpy'_?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable!" He turned to Hermione and Harry didn't stop him. "He's really young too, only eighteen or something. He's a genius," said Ron coming to a stop in front of the WHEEZLY tent. Ron gave Hermione a pointed look. "You wait until tonight, you'll see."

* * *

To Harry's great fortune, he _did_ see. He saw just how good the Bulgarian seeker really was by sitting in the box office of the pitch. He saw both teams fly spectacularly, crash horribly, and foul each other like the other team had just insulted the other's grandmother.

He watched Ireland win, but Bulgaria catch the snitch and win the game. Harry's hands were still numb from clapping.

It was only when he was back in the tent after the game had ended that the roaring in his ears calmed down from the crowds, but still, he was surrounded by Mr. Weasly and Charlie arguing about cobbing, Ron rambling about how good Krum was on a broom, the twins laughing loudly that Ron was in love and Ginny running around from one conversation to the next laughing and commenting loudly over all the rest of the noise.

It seemed too soon when Mr. Weasly had sent them all to bed after Ginny had spilled hot chocolate from falling asleep at the table with Bill. There was a lot of groaning and moaning, but eventually, everyone lay down in their own beds wide awake and listened to the loud singing from outside the tent and the occasional odd echoing bang.

"Oh I'm glad I'm not on duty," Mr. Weasly muttered tiredly. "I wouldn't fancy having to tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."

Harry nodded and started to imagine himself flying with his name on the back of professional Quidditch robes with hundreds upon thousands of fans screaming and Fudge bellowing over them, "I give you… _Potter!_"

He didn't know when or how his imagination had lead him to dreams, but quite suddenly, Mr. Weasly was shouting. "Get up! Ron-Harry- come on now, get up, this is urgent!"

Harry sat up quickly and the top of his head hit canvas. "S' matter?" he said.

Dimly, he could tell something was wrong. The noises in the campsite had changed. The singing had stopped. He could hear screams, and the sound of people running. He slipped down from the bunk and Mr. Weasly grasped his arm firmly. "No time, Harry- just grab a jacket and get outside- quickly!"

Harry did as he was told and ran out of the tent with Ron at his heels.

Outside, a large group of masked men marched across the field setting tents on fire and blasting others out of the way while hovering four figures above them like puppets. Harry looked closer and saw the muggle body guard, Mr. Roberts, spinning in the air with what looked like his wife and two kids beside him, doing impossible flips and contortions in the air as well above the masked men.

"That's sick," Ron muttered. "That's really sick."

Hermione and Ginny came running towards them pulling coats over their nightdresses, with Mr. Weasly right behind them. At the same moment, Bill, Charlie, and Percy came out of the tent fully dressed, their sleeves rolled up and their wands out.

"We're going to help the ministry," Mr. Weasly shouted over the noise, rolling up his own sleeves. "You lot- get into the woods, and _stick together_. I'll come and get you when we've sorted this out." Bill, Percy, Charlie and Mr. Weasly ran down to the mass mob of masked men and laughing wizards with their wands up. Ministry wizards were dashing in every direction towards the source of the trouble. The masked men were marching closer.

"C'mon," said Fred grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her towards the wood. Harry, Ron, Hermione and George followed. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts was larger than ever; they could see the ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the center, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as if they were afraid to perform a spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

Harry, Hermione and Ron were pushed and prodded by the screaming crowds running away from the masked men and panicked voices were reverberating in the night air around them. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying, and above it all, Harry heard Ron yell out in pain.

Hermione spun around anxiously in the dark and asked, "What happened? Ron! Where are you- oh this is stupid." She lifted her hand and with it, her wand, into the air. "_Lumos_!"

Light illuminated from her wand and Harry saw Ron lying sprawled on the ground. "Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily, getting to his feet again.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," drawled a familiar voice behind them.

The Trio turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree looking completely relaxed. He seemed to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees.

Ron cursed at the blonde so heavily, Harry knew Mrs. Weasly would have a small heart attack at the words.

"Language Weasly," Draco's eye glittered. "Shouldn't you be getting along? You don't want _them_," Draco looked pointedly at the masked men marching through the campsite, "finding out about your _mudblood_ do you?"

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron.

"Never mind Ron," Hermione said quickly, grasping Ron's forearm to restrain him as he took a step towards Malfoy.

There came a BANG from the other side of the trees, louder than anything they had heard before and people screamed. Malfoy chuckled softly.

"Scared easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your Daddy told you to all hide? What's he up to- trying to save the muggles?"

"Where're _your_ parents," said Harry, his temper rising. "Out wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy faced Harry smiling. "Well… if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, now would I, Potter?"

"Oh come on," Hermione said with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go find the others."

"Keep that bushy head down Granger," Malfoy sneered.

"Come on!" Hermione pulled Harry and Ron to the path. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others gone to?"

"Bet his dad _is_ out there," muttered Ron hotly.

"With any luck, the ministry will capture him," Hermione said back, snapping her head around, looking for the Fred, George and Ginny. They were nowhere to be seen, but the path was packed with other people, all looking nervously over at the campsite over their shoulders.

A huddle of teenagers in pajamas was arguing little way along the path. When they saw Harry, Ron and Hermione, a short girl with white-blonde hair turned to them and quickly said, "_Ou est Madame Maxime? Nous l'avons perdue_ –"

"Er- What?" Ron asked nervously.

"Oh…" the girl who had talked to them turned away, but heard her say to her group of friends "'Ogwarts," as she walked away.

"Beauxbatons," muttered Hermione.

"Sorry?" said Harry.

"They must go to Beauxbatons," said Hermione. "You know… Beauxbatons Academy of Magic… I read about it in _An appraisal of Magical Education in Europe."_

"Oh… yea… right," said Harry.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," Ron said lighting his wand like Hermione's down the path. Harry dug in his own pockets for his wand- but it wasn't there.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it… I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding!"

Ron and Hermione raised their wands to look at the ground around them. When it was clear it wasn't around them, Ron shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "Maybe you left it in the tent."

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when you were running?" Hermione asked feverishly.

"Yea… maybe," said Harry. Harry made it a point to carry his wand with him wherever he went, and being without his wand in a situation like this made him feel incredibly vulnerable.

"Let's just keep moving," Hermione said, pointing her wand into the woods.

"Leading Hermione?" Ron asked.

Hermione huffed and started walking tensely into the woods. Before very long, Harry was partially sure they were in the very heart of the suddenly quiet forest. They stopped after a while and Harry looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anything coming from a mile off."

The words weren't even out of his mouth before Ludo Bagman emerged from a tree right in front of them. Even by the faint light of Ron and Hermione's wand, Harry could tell Ludo looked strained and awfully pale. "Who's that?" Ludo blinked, trying to see their faces. "Why are you out here all alone?"

The trio looked at each other surprised.

"Well- there's a sort of riot going on," said Ron.

Bagman stared at him. "What?"

"At the campsite… some people got hold of a family of muggles…"

Bagman swore loudly. "Damn them!" he said quite loudly, and without another word, he disapparated with a loud _Pop. _

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, now is he?" Hermione said frowning.

"He was a great Beater though," Ron said, sitting down in the grass in the opening. "The Whimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them."

"Quidditch trophies shouldn't define the level in positions of power people get in the Ministry Ronald," Hermione said tightly.

Ron shrugged. "Didn't stop them though, did it?"

Hermione looked off, crossing her arms over her chest and Harry turned his attention to the sounds around their hiding place. There was very little noise around them, and that set Harry's nerves on edge more than a load of screaming and bright lights. It was eerie, the silence.

"I hope the others are okay," Hermione said after a while.

"They'll be fine," Ron said.

"Imagine, if your dad catches Malfoy's dad…" Harry said.

Ron grinned. "That would wipe the smile off old Draco's face al-" Ron broke off abruptly and looked over Hermione's shoulder. Harry and Hermione looked quickly around too.

It sounded as though someone was staggering towards their clearing. They waited, listening to the sound of uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Harry. There was a long moment of silence. "Whose there?"

And then, without warning, the silence was rent by a voice unlike any they had heard in the wood; and it uttered, not a panicked word, but what sounded like a spell. "_MORSMORDRE!" _

Something vast, green, and glittering erupted from the patch of darkness Harry's eyes had been struggling to penetrate; it flew above the treetops and into the sky.

"What the-?" gasped Ron.

For a split second Harry thought it looked like a leprechaun formation like the one he had seen after the end of the World Cup, but then he slowly realized that it was a colossal skull with a snake running out of its mouth like a tongue. The green mist went higher and higher into the air like a new constellation and Harry couldn't help but stare.

Suddenly, the woods erupted into screams. Hermione grabbed Harry's forearm tightly and tugged him backwards. "Harry, come on, _move_."

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark Harry," Hermione moaned, pulling him faster. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

"_Voldemort's-?"_

"Harry, come _on_!"

Harry didn't waste his time with more questions and the three of them started running away as fast as their feet could carry them. But before they had taken a few steps, a series of popping noises announced the arrival of twenty wizards, appearing in thin air and surrounding them. Harry saw each one of the wizards had his wand out, and he didn't pause to think before shouting, "DUCK!"

He seized his best friends and pulled them to the ground just before twenty voices roared, "_STUPIFY_!" There was a blinding series of lights and Harry felt as though a great wind had passed over him.

"STOP!" yelled a voice he recognized. "_Stop_! That's my son!"

Harry raised his head and saw a very red faced Mr. Weasly striding towards them, looking terrified. "Ron- Harry- Hermione- are you alright?"

"Step out of the way Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

It was Mr. Crouch. He and the rest of the Ministry official wizards were closing in on them. Harry got to his feet with Ron and Hermione. Mr. Crouch's face was taunt with rage. "Which of you did it?" he snapped, looking between them all. "Which of you conjured the dark mark?"

"We didn't do that!" Harry said pointing to the skull in the sky.

"We didn't do anything!" yelled Ron.

"Do not lie Sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch. "You were discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Where did the dark mark come from?" Mr. Weasly asked quickly.

Hermione pointed at the place where they had heard the voice. "O-Over there."

"Over there did they?" Crouch asked, disbelief clear on his face. "You seem well informed of where th-"

"We're too late," said one of the wizards, ignoring Crouch. "They'd have disapparated."

"You can't be sure, some of our stunners went through those trees," said another wizard Harry recognized as being Amos Diggory, the man he had met with Cedric coming over on portkey from the Burrow.

"Be careful Amos!" someone said.

Mr. Diggory squared his shoulders and headed into the woods. A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout. "Yes- we got him! Unconscious! It's- but… blimey- it's…"

"You got someone? Who?" shouted Mr. Crouch.

They heard crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory emerged from the woods with a tiny, limp figure in his hands. Harry recognized it immediately as being a house elf. Mr. Crouches house elf, from being in the box office up with her during the Cup. She had been saving Crouch a seat before the game had started, despite her being terrified of heights.

Mr. Crouch looked shocked for a moment, before he shook his head. "No- this cannot be-"

"Come off it Amos," said Mr. Weasly quietly. "You don't seriously think it was an elf? The Dark Mark is a wizard's sign, it requires a wand."

"Yea," said Mr. Diggory. "And she _had_ a wand."

"_What?"_ Mr. Weasly asked, his mouth opening in shock.

"Here look." Mr. Diggory held up a very familiar wand into the air and showed it to Mr. Weasly.

"Hey- that's mine!" Harry said.

Everyone in the clearing looked at him. "Excuse me?" Diggory asked.

"That's my wand!" Harry said again. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it? After you summoned the-"

"I didn't do it!" Harry exclaimed.

"Look who you're talking to Amos, you don't seriously expect-" Mr. Weasly started.

Diggory looked embarrassed. "No, no of course not."

"I didn't drop it here anyways," Harry pointed a finger to the campsites. "I missed it right after we got into the woods."

"So the elf-"Amos said glancing over at Arthur.

"-picked it up?" Arthur finished looking back.

"Well," Amos said rubbing his hands together almost embarrassed. "that's a violation of clause three of the Code of Wand Use for a start. _No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand._"

"Maybe she saw who cast the spell?"

Diggory nodded. "She could have."

Crouch looked unresponsive at what was going on around him, and Diggory took his silence for assent. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said "_Rennerverate_!"

Winky's big brown eye's opened immediately and looked around bemused. Her eyes fell on the skull in the air behind the wizards surrounding her, and the small elf burst into terrified sobs.

"Elf! Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!" said Mr. Diggory. "You were found with a wand in your hand! And as you see, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago. Not moments later you were found standing right under it! An explanation if you please!"

"I-I-I is not doing magic with it Sir!" Winky gasped. "I is… I is… I is just picking it up Sir! I is not making the Dark Mark Sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" Hermione squealed, looking truly terrified for the elf. "The voice we heard was deep and a male. Winky's is high a squeaky." She looked to Harry and Ron for support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky's did it?"

"No," Harry said shaking his head. "it definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yea, it was a human voice," agreed Ron.

"Well, we'll see," Amos said. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically as Mr. Diggory pointed his wand at Harry's and shouted, "_Prior Incantato!_"

Harry heard Hermione horrified gasp as a gigantic serpent tongued skull erupted from where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them, like the ghost of the spell. "So," Mr. Diggory said looking with a kind of savage triumph down at Winky.

"I is not doing it!" Winky squealed, her eyes rolling in terror. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf. I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

"YOU"VE BEEN CAUGHT RED-HANDED!" Amos shouted.

"Amos!" said Mr. Weasly loudly. "Precious few wizards know even the incantation… Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr. Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, "that I routinely teach my servants the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr. Crouch… not… not at all!"

"I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging.

"Mr. Crouch, I- I never suggested you had anything to do with it!"

"You accuse my house elf, you accuse me Mr. Diggory. Where else would she have been able to conjure it?"

"She- she might have picked it up somewhere—"

"Preciously Amos," said Mr. Weasly. "She might have _picked it up somewhere."_ Mr. Weasly turned to Winky gently. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky wrung her hands together feverishly. "I—I is finding it there, Sir…" she whispered, "There, in the trees Sir…"

"You see Amos?" said Mr. Weasly. "Whoever conjured the mark could have disapparated right afterwards, leaving the wad behind. A clever thing to do, to not use your own wand for some trace it back to. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up."

"But then she was only a few feet away from the real culprit!" Amos said impatiently. "Elf, did you see anyone?"

Winky gulped. "I—I is seeing no one Sir."

There was a silence for a moment before it was broken by Mr. Crouch. "Amos, I am aware that in your position you would ask for Winky to come with you to your department, but I would ask you let me deal with her."

Mr. Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of Mr. Crouch's suggestion at all, but it also seemed that Mr. Crouch was a powerful man in the ministry and that he would not dare refuse him.

"You may rest assured she will be punished," Mr. Crouch said coldly. "Winky had behaved in a manner I would not have thought possible. I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I sorted out the trouble. And I find out that she disobeyed me. _This means clothes._"

"NO!" Winky sobbed, placing herself over Mr. Crouches shoes. "Not clothes master! Not clothes!"

Mr. Crouch stepped away from the house elf as if she were worse than gum stuck to the bottom of a pair of four hundred dollar shoes. "I have no use for servants who disobey me. Or who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was sobbing so hard her voice was echoing around the clearing. There was a very long and nasty silence, only broken by Mr. Weasly several minuets later. "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody has any objections. Amos, also, if you could give Harry back his wand please."

Mr. Diggory held the wand out to Harry, if a bit begrudgingly, and Harry placed it in his back pocket.

"C'mon you three," Mr. Weasly said quietly leading them all away. Harry noticed Hermione look back at Winky, in pity, remorse and _rage_.

* * *

**Well, how was the beginning so far? Worth finishing for the next chapter?**

**If not, i'm writing it anyways, so suck it up.**

**Suggestions for the story? Comments? If you're wondering who the love interest is, you'll find out soon :)**

**UP NEXT: Harry gets to Hogwarts, meets a Mad teacher, and learns something about a tri-wizard tournament.**

**~Missmusicluver**

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey I'm back, you don't meet Harry's future lover in this, but i have to build up on whats happening don't I? I promise you'll see her next chapter :)**

**BY THE WAY! : A poll is up on whose name should come out of the cup for Hogwarts. the choices are**

**A) Cedric Diggory - if you want the same**

**B) Fred Weasley**

**C) George Weasley**

**D) Cho Chang**

**E) Adrian Pucey- a slythrin on the house team**

**Be sure to vote!**

* * *

The next few weeks for Harry had been brilliantly boring.

Of course, after the Dark Mark appeared a journalist for the Daily Prophet by the name of Rita Skeeter had become a major pain in not only the ministry's backside, but in the Weasley family's as well. The whole affair had made Mr. Weasley late every night and exhausted when he was finally able to hang up his cloak; only to be gone before anyone else was up the next morning.

Harry could tell Mrs. Weasley was worried for her husband and Harry couldn't help but feel pained for Mr. Weasley too. He had heard Percy, Bill, Charlie and Mrs. Weasley talk about what Ron's dad was going through; first with the Quidditch Cup fiasco, then with a covered up "attack" at an ex-dark wizard catcher (He had learned was called a Auror) that was named Mad-Eye Moody's, house—something that included attacking dustbins—All of it was really pushing the older wizard's limits of exhaustion.

Soon enough though, Harry had gotten his school books from Diagon Alley, (dress robes for some reason too—it was on the list) and had gotten on the train along with some very cryptic remarks from Charlie about even visiting them in Hogwarts. Neither Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, or even Fred and George could get a clue about what was 'supposedly' happening at Hogwarts this year and the hints were frustrating everyone to their last nerve.

It was only after Harry had been through the train ride on the Hogwarts express, (trading stories of the Quidditch World Cup stories with some of Harry's dorm friends the entire time) had watched the first years get sorted in their houses, (after a brilliant new song from the hat) and had eaten his fill from the Hogwarts feast, ( Hermione had stopped eating halfway through because she had learned it was all made by house elves) that Harry had learned anything truly exciting.

Dumbledore was going through his usual speech of having the Forbidden Forest being forbidden, and new wizarding toys being outlawed, when he had announced quiet surprisingly that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup would not be taking place that year.

"_What?_" Harry gasped. He looked over to the rest of his house Quidditch team, and saw that they had the same expressions of deep shock and appalled head-shaking that he did.

Dumbledore went on, like everyone wasn't too shocked to yell out in protest, and said, "This is due to an events that will be starting in October, and continued throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers time and energy—but I am sure you will all enjoy it all immensely. I have great pleasure to announce that this year Hogwarts—"

But at that moment, there was a deafening explosion of thunder and the Great Hall doors opened.

A man appeared in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled towards the stranger, suddenly brilliantly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling.

Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the man into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike Harry had ever seen before. Every inch of skin seemed to be scared. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the man's nose was missing. But all in all, it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a galleon, and a vivid electric blue. It was moving ceaselessly, without blinking and was rolling up, down, and from side to side and then suddenly, it rolled to the back of the head, leaving only whiteness in the front.

A dull _thunk_ echoed with every other step the man took. When the stranger reached Dumbledore, he reached out a hand that was as badly scared as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, mumbling words that Harry couldn't hear. The stranger shook his head at whatever was said, and Dumbledore nodded before gesturing the man to eat at the table at his right side.

The stranger sat down, took out a pocket knife from inside his cloak and speared a piece of sausage before eating it slowly. His normal eye looked down at the sausage, but his electric blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Great Hall and its students.

"May I introduce to you our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," said Dumbledore brightly into the stony silence. "Professor Moody." He clapped his hands together, but it was only him and Hagrid that had moved in the entire room. Everyone else was too transfixed in openly staring at the new teacher to move, and the clapping soon died off quite awkwardly.

"Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "_Mad-Eye Moody? _The one your dad went to help?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" whispered Hermione. "What happened to his _face_?"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to the less than warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached into his traveling cloak, pulled out a silver hip flask and took a long drink from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw below the table, several inches of a carved wooden leg.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the next couple of months, an event that has not been held in for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that filled the air since Moody's arrival vanished at Fred's comment and people all around the Great Hall laughed. Even Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am _not_ joking Mr. Weasley," he said. "Though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun walking into a bar…"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er—but maybe this is not the right time… no…" said Dumbledore. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well actually, it could be re-named Quad-wizard Tournament, but the Ministry thought that a change in traditional names would not be well suited, as there are going to now be four schools participating, but if it-"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat again and gave Dumbledore a pointed look.

Dumbledore smiled lightly and nodded almost to himself. "Well, let's see here, some of you will not know what the tournament will involve, so I do hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their imagination to wander freely.

"The Triwizard tournament was established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly completion between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the Tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young wizards of different nationalities – until that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"_Death toll?_" Hermione whispered looking alarmed. Harry barely heard her, his attention focused on the exciting news of something going on at Hogwarts rather than deaths that happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own Department of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself, or herself, in mortal danger."

"Wicked," Fred and George said at the same time, grinning at each other.

"In addition to this exciting new turn of events, the Ministry has decided that, in order to properly assure that students are culturally informed of the world outside their own, and can attest to being able to properly acquire friend ships out of their intended Nationalities, there will be another school added to the tournament. A school that is not in Europe at all, but in America."

The buzzing of conversation became louder and had mutated into excited chatter. Professor McGonagall had to clap her hands several times to regain everyone's attention.

"The Heads of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and our new friend Magnavox will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October, and the selection of the four champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons of personal prize money."

"I'm going for it," Fred hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches.

He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of sixteen years or older—will be allowed to put forwards their names for consideration. This—"Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, though the Weasly twins looked like they had just won the muggle jackpot—"is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that the students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Magnavox will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said Dean Thomas. "We're only two years away from sixteen! What could two years possibly make!"

"They're not stopping from me entering," said Seamus stubbornly. "They could get a _thousand_ galleons!"

"Yea…" said Ron with a faraway look in his eyes. "A thousand galleons…"

"Is that all you lot think about?" Fred laughed.

"You would be too if you were us!"

"Ah," George winked. "That's the beauty of it, we're not you. _We're_ allowed to sign up." He smiled cheekily, grabbed his brother's arm, and waved to them. "Wish us luck!"

"Oh go slip on a dungbomb!" Dean yelled behind their backs.

"Come on, we'll be the only ones left if we don't get a move on," said Hermione pulling Ron and Harry's arm.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, and Dean left the Great Hall debating ways that would get their names into the Tournament and how Dumbledore might stop them.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" asked Harry.

"Dunno, but it's them we'll have to fool," Dean said. "I reckon a couple drops of aging potion might do it… but to make it…"

"Don't look at me, last time it exploded remember?" Seamus said putting his hands up in surrender.

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age though," said Ron.

"Yea, but he's not the one who decides who the champions are though, is he?" said Dean. "Sounds like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving him our names!"

"People have died though!" Hermione said in a worried voice.

"Yea, but that was years ago wasn't it?" said Dean airily. "Anyways, where's the fun without a bit of risk? You three should know more about that than any of us."

Seamus laugh behind his hand next to Dean, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hey Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round old Dumbledore? Fancy Entering?" asked Seamus.

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older… Dunno if we've learned enough…"

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Seamus and Dean. "I expect my gran would expect me to try though… she's always on about how I should be upholding the family honor."

"Neville, people have _died._ Doesn't that mean anything to anyone? The whole tournament was cancelled because the _death toll_ was so high," said Hermione. "I don't think your grandmother would want you to risk your life for a chance of one to four at getting honor."

"Might do it for the thousand galleons though," Seamus smiled.

"Oh honestly!"

The six teens made their way up to the Gryffindor tower, and stopped in front of a painting of a fat lady in a pink dress. "Password?" she asked as they approached.

"Balderdash," said Dean. He turned to the rest of the group. "A prefect told me downstairs."

The portrait swung open revealing a red and gold covered common room with a brilliant fire in the fireplace and lots of squishy armchairs sitting around the room. Hermione took one look at the fireplace, sniffed, and Harry could have sworn he heard her say "_Slave labor_," before she bid them all goodnight and headed up to the girls dormitory.

Harry, Ron and Neville headed up last to go to bed. As they all tucked themselves into bed, Ron turned to Harry from his bed. "I might do it you know," Ron said sleepily through the darkness. "If Dean and Seamus find out how to…the tournament… you never know do you?"

"S'pose not…" Harry rolled over in his bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in his mind's eye…He had hoodwinked the impartial judge, making him believe he was sixteen…he had become Hogwarts champion… he had just won the Triwizard Tournament… the whole school screaming and cheering his name… Cho's face particularly clear in the crowd, shinning in admiration….

Harry grinned into his pillow, glad Ron couldn't see what he could.

* * *

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the great hall was still gloomy and grey. The day had started out well for Harry, starting off with Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, then Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, and it was even livable though Double Divinations.

The beginning of bad on Harry's first day at school started with Malfoy after lessons.

"Weasley! Hey Weasley!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned around. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing behind them, each looking particularly pleased about something.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the newspaper Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the daily prophet and speaking very loudly so everyone in the Entrance Hall could listen. "And it's even got a picture!" he said flipping the paper over and holding it up for the rest of the Hall to see. "A picture of your parents outside your house—if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.

"Get stuffed Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon Ron…"

"Oh yea, you were staying with them this summer weren't you Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know_ your_ mother Malfoy?" said Harry, holding the back of Ron's robes with Hermione to stop Ron from launching himself at Malfoy. "That expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that or was it only when you're with her?"

Malfoy's pale face had gone slightly pink. "Don't you dare insult my mother Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut then!" Harry said turning his back on Malfoy and pulling Ron away.

BANG!

Several people screamed—Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face. He plunged his hands into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, another loud BANG, and a roar echoed through the Entrance Hall.

"OH NO YOU DON'T LADDIE!"

Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the staircase. His wand was out and he was pointing it at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody was moving except for Moody who had turned to look at Harry. His normal eye at least had, his other eye was looking at the back of his head. "Did he get you?" he asked gruffly.

"No," said Harry. "He missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.

"Leave what?" Harry exclaimed, bewildered.

"Not you—him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret.

Moody started to limp towards Crabbe, Malfoy and Goyle, and the ferret squeaked in fear before it took off down the Hall. "I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret. It flew ten feet in the air, fell with a SMACK to the floor, before being lifted into the air again.

"I don't like when people attack other's when their back is turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do…"

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never—do—that—again!" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the floor and bounced upwards again.

"Professor Moody!" called a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble steps with her arms full of books.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," Moody said calmly, still bouncing the ferret higher.

"What—what are you doing?" she asked, her eyes following the bouncing ferret.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach—Moody, _is that a student_?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling from her arms and landing on the floor.

"Technically, it's a ferret."

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall running down the rest of the stairs and raising her wand to the ferret. A moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared in a heap on the ground, his blonde hair all over his now shockingly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we _never_ use transfiguration on students as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Surely Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might have mentioned it yea," Moody said, scratching his chin unconcerned. "But I thought a good, sharp, shock might—"

"We give detentions Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that then," Moody said staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering from pain and humiliation, turned to Moody malevolently and muttered something in which the words 'my father' were distinguishable.

"Oh yea?" Moody said walking towards Malfoy with a _THUNK_ from his wooden leg. "Well I know your father of old, boy…You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… Now, your Head of House will be Snape won't it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forwards to a chat with old Snape… Come on boy…" He seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him to the dungeons.

McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, before waving her wands and making her books appear in her arms again.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione walked away towards the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, and Ron closed his eyes in concentration. "No one talk to me."

"Wha—Why not?" Hermione asked surprised.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

Harry and Hermione laughed together, and started to eat. Hermione shoveled the food down her throat so fast, Harry wondered if she could breathe while doing that. "Hermione why—" he asked.

"Got to go, loads to do," she answered between bites.

"What? But you said you haven't got any home—" said Ron.

"S'not for school," Hermione said, taking a long gulp of water, picking her bag up in a flourish and standing up. "See you later!"

Not a moment after Hermione left, her seat was taken by Fred and George Weasly.

"Moody!" Fred said. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," answered George.

"Supercool," said the twins best friend Lee Jordan, sliding next to George. "We had him this afternoon," he told Ron and Harry.

"What was it like?" asked Harry eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.

"He _knows_, man," said Lee.

"Knows what?" asked Ron, leaning forwards.

"Knows what it's like being out there and _doing_ it," George answered.

"Doing what?" asked Harry.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.

"He's seen it all," said George.

"'Mazing," agreed Lee.

Ron dived in his bag eagerly for his schedule and then scrunched his eyebrows together in a frown as his eyes settled on the paper. "We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed tone.

* * *

Thursday came without incident, unless you count Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions.

The fourth year Gryffindor's were looking forwards to Moody's lesson so much, that they arrived early after lunchtime and had lined up in front of his door before the bell had even rung. The only person who wasn't there was Hermione, who had turned up _just_ before the bell had rung.

"Been in the—"

"Library," Harry finished for her in a nod. "C'mon, quick, before we don't get any decent seats."

They hurried into three seats right before the teacher's desk, took out their copies of _The Dark Forces: A guide to Self-Protection,_ and waited, unusually quiet. Soon though, they heard the odd _CLUNK_ of Moody's wooden leg and all of the students sat a little taller in their seats.

Moody entered the room looking as strange and scary as ever with his clawed wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes and his electric blue eye rolling about his head when he came to a stop in front of his desk. "You can put those away," he growled, his rolling eye coming to a stop at the front of the class. "those books. You won't need them."

They returned their books to their bags, Ron looking excited.

"Right then, I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. It seems that you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures—you've covered Red Caps, bogarts, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of agreement around the class.

"But you're behind—very behind—on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you all how to—"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out.

Moody's magical eye spun around to look at Ron; Ron looking very apprehensive, and Moody smiled. The overlook was worse than just the normal sight of the scarred face, and students couldn't help but grimace at the scared smile.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "You're father got me out of a very tight spot a couple of weeks ago… Yeah, I'm just staying just this one year. Special favor to Dumbledore… One year, and then back to my quiet retirement." He gave a harsh laugh, and clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So—straight into then. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the ministry of magic, I'm supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you illegal Dark Curses until you're in sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with them. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away Miss. Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvarti her completed horsescope under the desk.

"So do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?" Moody asked.

Several hands rose tentatively in the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though keeping his magical eye fixed on Lavender.

"Er," said Ron, "My dad told me about one… it's called the Imperious Curse, or something?"

"Ah yes," said Moody nodding. "Your father _would_ know that one. Gave the ministry a bit of grief, that one."

Moody pulled out three glass jars from behind his desk and sat them atop the surface of the desk. Inside each one was a large black spider scuttling around in the inside of it, and Harry felt Ron recoil a little in his seat.

Moody reached in side one of the glass jars and grabbed the spider into his hand. He pointed his wand at the spider and muttered "_Engorgio_." Harry watched fascinated as the spider got three times bigger in Moody's hand.

Ron quivered in his seat and sunk low into his desk, his face going a bit pale. "Spiders," he whimpered.

Moody raised the spider in his hand for everyone to see and then pointed his wand at it again and muttered, "_Imperio_!"

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backwards and forwards as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, did a backflip in the air and landed on a desk, breaking the string. It then started to do a multitude of impossible cartwheels on the desk. Moody jerked his wand and the spider rose on two of its hind legs in an unmistakable tap dance.

Everyone was laughing—everyone, that was, except Moody.

"Think it's funny do you?" he growled to them. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody, as the spider balled in on itself and began to roll on the surface of the desk. "What should I have it do next?" he twitched his wand and the spider was flung across the class room towards the giant glass windows and Harry heard a small _thunk_ when the spiders body smashed against the glass panels. "Throw itself out the window?"

Moody twitched his wand again and the spider moved obediently from the window to hovering above a pale full of water. "Drown itself?"

The room had gone completely quiet, everyone's own heads thinking of the possibilities of what could be done with such a spell.

"Years back," Moody said, cutting off the class's thoughts, "there were a lot of witches and wizards controlled by the Imperious Curse." Harry knew Moody was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been in power. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act and who was acting of their own free will."

Hermione's hand flew in the air beside Harry and Moody's magical eye trained on Hermione. "Granger is it?" he asked with a nod.

"Yes Sir Professor Moody and I—" Hermione flicked her eyes over to Harry and Ron once, as if she was building up courage for her question. "Well Sir, I was wondering why it would have been so hard as to figure out who was who. Aren't there ways of getting out the truth from people who don't want it?"

"Would you be talking about torture Miss Granger?" Moody asked, his scarred face impassive.

Hermione paled at the comment. "N-No! I was only meaning Vertiserem or No-Cheat quills when writing their statements—"

"That, Miss Granger, would work, if the Prosecuted thought that they were guilty or that they weren't."

Hermione's head tipped to the side ever so slightly. "Excuse me Professor?"

"Dark Arts," Moody began, "can make a wizard do things, ordinarily impossible by the everyday magical person, but easily to the undefended."

"Sir?" Hermione asked, but Harry thought he was beginning to see what Moody meant.

"You asked Miss Granger, if Vertiserem would work against them. It would and it wouldn't." His magical eye stared at her while this normal eye looked around to the rest of the class. "It would, if the Wizard knew that he was lying and was only trying to save his own backside and money. It wouldn't, if the Wizard was thought to believe that he was another person, or had done things that he had never committed."

"Sir, do you mean like… implanting memories?" Hermione asked.

"That, is exactly what I mean Miss Granger. Dark Arts can twist the mind to make the ordinary wizard believe that while he had been actually sitting down in his bedroom, sharing a kettle of tea with his wife, he was killing muggles and setting the Dark Mark above the houses of his friends and neighbors."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Sir, could this happen… both ways?"

Moody nodded. "Now you're thinking Miss Granger. Yes, if a Death Eater had killed someone, another Death Eater could make the other believe he had been sitting in his local pub the entire night instead of destroying Muggle neighborhoods."

"Well, how could you tell the difference?" asked Hermione.

Moody's grinned, making his scarred face even more terrible. "That's the rob, now isn't it? To tell the difference between the two." Moody looked around the classroom. "To find a difference unnoticed by everyone else, was nearly impossible. Unfortunately for the Ministry, there weren't enough people and resources to find out who was lying and who wasn't. Death Eaters got away, and I've no doubt that some men were imprisoned wrongly."

Harry immediately thought of Lucious Malfoy, and his godfather Sirius.

"Now, the Imperious Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped.

Moody picked up the spider and put it back in the glass jar.

"Anyone else know one? An illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew in the air, and to Harry's surprise, so did Neville's. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.

"Yes?" Moody asked, his magical eye on Neville.

"There's one—the Cruciatus curse," said Neville in a small, but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville. "Your names Longbottom is it?" Neville nodded, but Moody made no other inquires about it.

Turning back to the class, he reached in a glass jar for the next spider and set it on the desk, where it remained motionless. "The Cruciatus Curse, needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," Moody said. He enlarged the spider again on his desk and pointed his wand at the large spider again. "_Crucio!" _

At once, the spiders legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Harry was sure that if it had a voice, it would have been screaming. Moody didn't move his wand and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently—

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly.

Harry looked around at Hermione. She was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville, and Harry following her gaze, saw that Neville's hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.

Moody raised his wand. The spiders leg relaxed, but it continued to twitch.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you have the Cruciatus Curse… that was very popular once too." Moody's magical eye scanned the class. "Right, anyone know the last one?"

Harry looked around. From the looks on everyone's faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Hermione's hand shook slightly as she raised it in the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, staring at her.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Hermione whispered.

Several people moved uneasily around her, including Ron.

"Ah," said Moody, his lopsided mouth tightening in another smile. "The last and the worst… _Avada Kedavra_… the killing curse."

Moody took out the last spider, and Harry felt a shiver of foreboding. Moody pointed his wand and roared "_Avada Kedavra!"_ into the deathly quiet air.

There was a flash of green light, and instantaneously the spider rolled on its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backwards and almost toppled off of his seat as the spider skidded towards him.

Moody swept the dead spider to the floor. "Not pleasant," he said calmly. "Not nice. There's no blocking it, and there's no counter curse. Only _one_ person has ever survived it… and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry felt his face redden as both Moody's magical and regular eye landed on him. He could feel everyone else staring at him. Heat rose from the bottom of his neck at the pin-drop silence around him and Harry watched as Moody suddenly went to his hip flask and took a huge gulp from the bronze flask. He grimaced and shook his head, and Harry wondered what type of medicine the ex-auror must be taking to make the gruff man flinch at the taste.

The man put the flask back in his side and turned to the class again. "_Avada Kedavra_'s a powerful curse that needs a bit of power behind it. You could all pull out your wands at me, say it, and I dare say I would get nothing more than a nose bleed. But that's not important; I'm not here to show you how to do it. I'm here to show you how to appreciate the worst that's out there. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared again and the class jumped again.

"Now those three curse are called the Unforgivable Curses, and for good reason. This is what you'll need to know for each one in any case…" the rest of the class was given from Moody about the details of each curse.

No one spoke until the bell rang—but when Moody released them and the class left, a torrent of talk erupted free. Most were talking about the curses in awed voices. "Did you see it twitch!"

"—never saw it move—"

"—did anything it wanted!"

"And when he killed it—just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson, Harry thought, like it was some kind of spectacular show, but he hadn't found it very entertaining—neither it seemed, had Hermione.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Ron and Harry.

"Not to the ruddy library again," said Ron.

"No, to Neville," Hermione said curtly, pointing up the corridor.

Neville was standing alone, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed expression he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" Hermione asked gently, walking up beside him and looking at him with a soft, imploring look.

Neville looked around, his eyes a little glazed over, like he couldn't exactly see what was in front of him. "Oh hullo. Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm-I'm starving aren't you?"

"Neville are you all right?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville said in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner—I mean lesson—what's for eating?"

Ron gave Harry a startled look. "Neville what—"

An odd clunking noise echoed from behind them, and Professor Moody limped up behind them all up to Neville; his voice lower and gruffer than before. "It's alright sunny," he said to Neville, "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on… we can have a cup of tea…"

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of having tea with Moody. He didn't move or speak. Moody turned his magical eye to Harry.

"All right Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's magical blue eye rotated between Harry's eyes, like he was looking for something. "You've got to know. It may seem harsh now, but _you've got to know_. No point pretending… well… come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might be of some interest to you."

Moody placed a gnarled hand on Neville's shoulder and led him away, with Neville looking after Harry, Ron and Hermione with pleading eyes.

"What was that about?" Ron asked, watching Moody and Neville turn the corner back.

"I don't know," Hermione said with a carefully blank face.

"Some lesson though, eh?" Ron asked, as the trio started to walk to the Great Hall for dinner. "Fred and George were right then, weren't they? Moody really knows what he's talking about."

"Yea, I guess, but wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. Probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later."

"But teaching such things in a _classroom_! Honestly Ron, you'd think Professor Moody would have more sense then—" started Hermione.

"Then most," interrupted Ron. "You remember some of the other teachers we've had? At least this one knows his stuff." Ron covered his mouth and coughed dramatically while gasping loudly, "_Lockhart_."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

* * *

Later that night, after Harry, Ron and Hermione had gotten back from dinner, and after Hermione had nearly assaulted Ron and Harry with her S.P.E.W badges (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare), had Harry gotten a return from Sirius.

Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill. "Hedwig!" he shouted, and launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.

Hedwig flew inside and landed on the arm of the chair Harry had been sitting in. "About time!" Harry said, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg. Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read with Hedwig sitting on his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Harry frowned shortly, and read out loud:

_Harry—_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore—they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is._

_I'll be in touch soon. Give my best to Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry._

_-Sirius _

Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.

"He's flying north?" Hermione asked, her eyes going wide. "He's coming _back_?"

"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" asked Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry—what's wrong?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the head with his palm, causing Hedwig to fly out of his lap in a jolt. "I shouldn't have told him!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table. "Coming back because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me!"

"Harry," said Hermione in a pacifying tone.

Harry shook his head and clenched his hands into fists. "I'm going to bed," he said shortly. "See you in the morning."

Upstairs in his dormitory, he pulled on his pajamas but didn't feel remotely tired. If Sirius got caught, it would be Harry's fault. Why couldn't he just have kept his mouth shut?

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke with a plan set squarely in his mind. Reaching for a quill and paper, Harry began his plan with a satisfied sigh.

_Sirius— _Harry wrote.

_I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting. I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal._

_Harry_

He then took off to the Owlery and watched as Hedwig delivered his message with the familiar feeling of unease in his stomach. He had been so sure Sirius's answer would have alleviated his worries, instead of increasing them.

"But it was a _lie_ Harry," Hermione said during breakfast after Harry had told them what he had done. "You _didn't _imagine yourscar hurting and you know it."

"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."

Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron cut her off with a shake of his head in warning. "Just drop it Hermione."

"But-" she started.

Ron shook his head again and glanced back to his breakfast. "Think about what could happen if Sirius _did_ get caught coming back to see Harry. It'd be the Dementor's Kiss for sure for him. Fudge wouldn't think twice about it."

Hermione frowned at her food, and nodded quietly, before pulling out her Potions book on the table.

Harry met Ron's eyes and Ron only nodded back, accepting the thanks from Harry easily.

Over the next couple of weeks, thoughts about Sirius being caught flew rampant in Harry's mind, and the only thing that distracted him was their lessons, which were becoming even more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting them all under the Imperious Curse in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But- but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione as Moody cleaned the classroom of extra books with a flick of his wand. "You said—to use it against another human was—"

"Dumbledore wants you taught to know what it feel like," said Moody, his magical eye staring at Hermione. "If you'd rather learn the harder way, with an enemy telling you to kill off your best friends and future family—that's fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

Hermione turned pink and sat down, muttering about not meaning she wanted to leave. Ron and Harry grinned at each other, knowing Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.

Moody grunted in dismissal and began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Curse on them. Harry watched as one by one, his classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room singing the national anthem, Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel, Neville did a series of amazing gymnastics, and Seamus ran around proclaiming he was Superman while running up the walls and jumping off, trying to fly.

Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."

Harry moved forwards into the middle of the classroom and lifted his wand at Harry. "_Imperio!_"

It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt like a floating sensation as thought and worry in his head was wiped away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him.

And then he heard Moody's voice ordering him from outside his empty brain. _Jump onto the desk…_

Harry bent his knees obediently.

_Jump onto the desk…_

Why though? Another voice had woken in the back of his brain. Stupid thing to do really…

_Jump onto the desk…_

No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice a little more firmly. … no I really don't want to.

_Jump. NOW!_

The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping—the result was that he'd smashed headlong into the desk, and by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps.

"Now _that's_ more like it!" growled Moody's voice in approval. Suddenly, Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to have doubled.

"Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it and he damned near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you , pay attention—watch his eyes, that's where you see it—very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling _you_!"

* * *

An hour later, Harry hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class after Moody had insisted putting Harry through his paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw off the curse entirely.

"The way he talks," Harry grumbled, wincing at every step away from the classroom, "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any moment."

"Yea I know," Ron agreed, "Talk about paranoid…"

"Now he wants a six inch roll of parchment about the Curse as well."

"And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

Harry snorted darkly.

When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to move forwards due to a large crowd of students standing around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of the three, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other two:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Magnavox

will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons

will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books

to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our

guests before the Welcoming Feast.

"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him…"

"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, as Hogwarts Champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd towards the staircase.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," defended Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student—_and_ he's a prefect."

Ron scoffed. "You only like him because he's _handsome_."

"Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione.

Ron gave a false cough, like the one from a few weeks ago, which sounded suspiciously like, "_Lockhart!_"

Hermione huffed indignantly and stalked towards dinner, with Ron smiling pleasantly behind her and Harry looking after both of them, caught between exasperation and amusement.

Harry shook his head and turned back to the sign, reading it for himself one more time. "Only a week away," he said to himself, before following after Ron and Hermione to dinner. "Only a week away."

* * *

**Well, that wasn't too terrible right?**

**Anyways, I've put the poll up on who should be chosen as Hogwarts champion. Go on and vote for who you think it should be.**

**I've got a story board for each and every one of them. :)**

**Up Next: New students come to school, Harry meets someone famous, and people start putting their names in the Goblet.**

**~Missmusicluver**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys :) here's chapter three.**

**All rights go to JK Rolwing**

* * *

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall made a significant effect on the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation no matter where Harry went: the Triwizard Tournament.

Rumors were flying from student to student like a highly contagious disease about who was going to try for the Hogwarts Champion, what the tournament would involve, and how the students from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Magnavox would differ from themselves.

"I don't know about Durmstrang, but at Beauxbatons and Magnavox, students start school earlier," Hermione had informed Harry and Ron over the week.

"Earlier? How much earlier?" Ron asked.

"Well, Beauxbatons start their magical training in Primary school, but that's just a type of finishing school really."

"A finishing school?" Harry asked. "For kids?"

"Well, it has magic in it too, but it's like a private, rich, Primary School… just for Magical Families."

Ron looked thoughtful. "I didn't know you could go to one of those."

"Normally," Hermione huffed quite darkly, "you can't. It makes it unfair to muggleborns."

"What about Magnavox then?" Harry asked.

"They start a year earlier than us."

"What? A whole year? Why?" said Ron.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I read about it in _The Understanding of Education: In an American Society_, but it really didn't specify why they did it. I suspect it was because of tradition, or myth really."

"Why would they want to start school a _year_ early for tradition… or er, myth?" said Ron.

"Back when the States were The Thirteen Colonies, the magical society thought that ten was a magical number. So, when their children turned ten, their magical training would begin in hopes that their magic would be strong when they got older," Hermione said.

"What?" asked Ron. "They mental? Everyone knows seven's the most magical number!"

"That can be debated Ron," Hermione said quickly, like a teacher with a limited amount of time. "The origins of a magical number can be thought to be three, five, seven, ten, thirteen, six hundred and sixty six and so on. It really just depends on the Era of time people believe in magic."

"I thought 666 was the devils number?" said Harry.

"Magic was once thought a devils tool to ensnare people's faith in God too," Hermione stated.

Harry suddenly had an idea. "So they all started their kids in school when they were ten?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "Does that mean the students from Magnavox can enter their kids that are 15 in the Tournament, because they would have a year more in schooling than us?"

Ron's eyes widened in realization. "Wha—hey, that's not fair! They can't do that!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh honestly Ron, yes they can! They have already taken fifth year studies! They would be considered sixth year students, just like Fred and George!"

"Yea, but they're only—only a year older than us!" Ron exclaimed.

"They still know more than we would Ron, they went to school a year before we did!"

"But that—that's not fair!"

Hermione sighed, as if the conversation was taking a physical toll on her. "Ronald, it doesn't have to be fair, it just has to make sense."

"Well, it doesn't make sense either!"

"_That_ doesn't make sense."

"Wha—yes it does!" Ron said indignantly.

"Guys!" Harry shouted at them.

Hermione and Ron looked to him quickly, like they were about to snap at him too, before Hermione blushed at the base of her neck and swallowed hard. "Sorry Harry," she smiled.

Ron rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yea, sorry mate, got carried away there."

Harry nodded, tempted to roll his eyes at how thick his two friends were acting towards each other.

When they went down to breakfast on the 30th of October, they found the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house and thousands of extra candles hung in the air, brightening the room a considerable amount.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked towards Seamus and Dean at the Gryffindor table. Ron led the way towards them and sat down across from the pair. Harry sat next to Ron and Hermione sat on Ron's other side. Dean and Seamus looked at them as they sat down, both looking a little gloomy.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought anymore about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions were chosen but she wasn't telling," Dean said bitterly. "She told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my pincushion."

"Wonder what the tasks will be," Ron said thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before…"

"Not in front of a panel of judges you haven't," said Seamus. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, the heads of the participating schools are all on the panel," Hermione said, nervous when all everyone looked towards her in surprise, "it's all in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Ron huffed. "_Hermione,_ how many times do we have to _tell_ you? _No_ one reads that stuff except for you!"

"A load of Ravenclaws read about it, it's just you Ronald!" Hermione said.

"Yea, but their _Ravenclaws_ Hermione. It's a bloody miracle you made it in Gryffindor with those brains of yours," Ron said.

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" said Hermione icily.

"I didn't say that! It's a good thing, don't worry…" said Ron. "You always help me and Harry with homework."

"So I'm just good for your good notes in class, is that it!" Hermione's voice had risen, making students around Harry glance over at their group.

"Now, hold on, I didn't say that! I just meant that—"

"Well, the next time you have questions, don't look you for me Ronald, look for your preferred _Ravenclaw_ since all I'm good for—"Hermione started, getting up and collecting her things.

"Hermione, I didn't say that!" Ron said.

Hermione slug the straps of her bag across her shoulders and turned from the table with a loud and very sour, "Boys!" heard from her as she walked away and out of the Great Hall.

Ron watched her leave and shook his head. "Girls."

Harry met Dean and Seamus's eyes, and the three of them tried their very best to not grin amongst themselves.

"Honestly Harry, the girl needs to learn how to just—" Ron started, staring after the Great Hall doors.

His next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Harry looked up at once and saw Hedwig soaring towards him. Ron stopped talking abruptly and watched as Hedwig landed on Harry's shoulder and offered him a letter tied to one of her legs wearily.

Harry untied Sirius's reply from Hedwig carefully before checking that Dean and Seamus were safely immersed in talks about the Triwizard Tournament before Harry read out Sirius's letter to Ron in a whisper.

_Nice try, Harry,_

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me. Just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar._

_Sirius_

Harry rolled up the letter and slipped it inside his robes, wondering if he felt more or less worried than before. He supposed that Sirius managing to get back without being caught was something. He couldn't deny either that the idea that Sirius so much closer was reassuring… At least he wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time he wrote.

There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was really attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Magnavox. When the early bell rang for them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried up Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the Entrance Hall in lively excitement.

The heads of houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvarti scowled and pulled out a large ornamented butterfly from the end of her side-bangs.

"Follow me please," said McGonagall. "First years in front… no pushing…"

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening and Harry watched as Dennis Creevey was positively shivering with the other first years in front of the students.

"It's nearly six," said Ron looking down at a clock on his wrist, then staring at the drive that led them to the front gates. "How'd you reckon their coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione, apparently talking to Ron again, after a whole day of silence between them.

"How then, broomsticks?" Harry asked, looking up into the starry sky.

"I don't think so… not from that far away…"

"A portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate—maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen from where they're from?"

"You can't Apparate inside Hogwarts's ground. How many times do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently.

They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent and quiet as usual. Harry was starting to feel cold. He wished they'd hurry up… maybe the foreign students were preparing for a dramatic entrance… Harry remembered what Mr. Weasly had said to him before the Quidditch World Cup. "…always the same—can't resist showing off when we get together."

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers, "Aha—if I'm not mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"_There_!" yelled a sixth year, pointing to the Forbidden Forest.

Something large—much larger than a broomstick—was hurtling closer and closer from the sky over the Forbidden Forest towards the castle.

"It's a dragon!" shouted a first year, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!" Dennis Creevey yelled.

Dennis's guess was closer… As the gigantic shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them. It was pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos and each the size of an elephant.

Students leaned backwards subconsciously as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming to a land at a tremendous speed—then, with almighty crash, the horse's hooves, each bigger than a dinner plate, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.

Harry barely had time to look at the carriage properly before its large door opened. A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled with something on the inside of the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shiny, high-heeled black shoe the size of a child's sled, emerge from the carriage opening, followed almost immediately, by the largest woman Harry had ever seen. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one other person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large black eyes and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn into a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed head to toe in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.

"That's one _big_ woman," Seamus whispered next to Harry and Ron. Dean nodded, and Harry could just stare.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tip-toe to look better at the large woman.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, barely had to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," smiled Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about twenty five boys and girls, all in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which wasn't surprising, considering they were dressed in robes that seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. From what Harry could see of them, they were all staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked. "Varginna?"

"They should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime, no doubt to the immense joy of her students. "But 'ze horses—"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his—er—charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to Harry grinning.

"My steeds require forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking very doubtful that any teacher from Hogwarts could handle such a chore. "'Ze are very srong…"

"I assure you, that Hagrid will be up for the job," said Dumbledore smiling.

"Very well," Madame Maxime said with a slight bow. "Will you please inform zis Hagrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore said, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus asked.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if, he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped, and we won't have to deal with them in class anymore," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine those lot loose on the grounds…"

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few moments, the silence was broken by the stamping feet of Madame Maxime's horses, but then—

"Can you hear something?" said Ron suddenly.

Harry listened closely, and found himself hearing what could have been described as the sucking of a vacuum cleaner with something dense, like Jello.

"The lake!" shouted Lee Jordan, pointing downwards. "Look at the lake!"

From their positions on the steps of Hogwarts overlooking the lawns below them, they had an excellent view of the once smooth looking lake that was rapidly bubbling and causing large waves to crash ashore the beaches. Out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared like someone had pulled the plug on the bottom of the lake.

What appeared to be a long black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool… and then Harry saw the rigging…

"It's a mast!" he yelled to Ron and Hermione.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering in its portholes seemed to look like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the _THUD_ of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking, Harry could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. As they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the Entrance Halls, he saw that each one of them were wearing bulky coats made of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them wore furs of a different sort: sleek and silver like his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.

"Dear old Hogwarts," Karkaroff said, smiling with yellow teeth, the warmth not seeming to reach his eyes. "How good it is to be here… how good… Come along Victor, into the warmth… you don't mind do you Dumbledore? Victor has a slight head cold…"

Karkaroff beckoned one of his student's forwards. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominently curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn't need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, or the hiss in his ear, to recognize that profile.

"Harry—_it's Krum!_"

"I know," Harry whispered back. "I know who it is—"

The students of Hogwarts seemed to have just come to the same realization as well, as a large wave of murmurs started to pass along them. "Victor—Victor Krum!" they were all saying. "He's—he's going to stay in Hogwarts with us! With—us!"

Hermione huffed. "You'd think they'd never met a celebrity before."

"We haven't really…" Ron said, his eyes glassy still looking after the Quidditch star disappearing inside.

"Oh, then what exactly is Harry then Ron?" Hermione snapped.

"My best mate…" Ron answered robotically.

"Ron!" Hermione said snapping her fingers in front of his face.

"Wh—What?" he asked blinking furiously. "What was that for Hermione?"

"To break you out of your inner fan-girl, before Fred and George write you a symphony you can serenade to Victor after all this," Harry answered, trying his best not to smile.

Fred and George Weasly, a few students behind them, seemed to have heard Harry. "Wh—that's a good idea Harry!" smiled George. "What do you think Fred?"

"Victor I love youuuu," sung Fred dramatically, causing the students nearest them to stop talking about the Quidditch star and turn to them in interest.

"Victor I doooo," sung George.

"When we're apart my heart beats only for youuuu," they sung together, causing all of listening students to laugh loudly, and Ron's face to go very red.

"That would be quite enough!" McGonagall snapped, waving her wand so than red sparks appeared in the air. The students quieted almost instantly. "Keep your heads forwards, and wait patiently for our last guests to arrive," she ordered with steel.

Harry and his friends did as they were told and stood silently in front of Hogwarts, their eyes peeling the grounds for any sign of the new students. "What do you reckon they'll show up in?" Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione.

"Something fast," Hermione whispered back, despite herself, glancing over at McGonagall. "They'd have to if they wanted to get over the Atlantic and up here to Scotland."

"Do you think they Apparated then?" asked Ron.

"A whole group of them?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"I already _told_ you, you can't Apparate in Hogwarts!"

"Then a portkey?" Ron asked again, going over their old ideas.

"You can't portkey in other countries Ron. There's a law against it in _International Travels: the Laws to Safely Commuting_," said Hermione.

"Well then how're they getting here all the way from America?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head. "An airplane?" she whispered.

"A what?" asked Ron.

"It's a muggle thing…" Harry said shaking his head, not wanting to get into it. "Wait, do you hear that?"

Ron cocked his head up like a dog. "Do you hear wh—" Ron blinked a couple times. "What _is_ that?"

Harry turned to the direction Ron was staring at and the high whistling noise was coming from. From across the hills, a snake like _thing_ was moving very fast over the grounds, going over rocks and turning around trees without ever slowing down or stopping. It looked stuck to the ground like it was only moving because a very large magnet was somehow under the ground and guiding it forwards with incredible speed. If Harry thought about it, the incoming movement reminded him a lot of the Night Bus that Stan Stunpike ran.

Several other students had caught sight of it too, but it was still too dark for Harry to make it out completely. "It's a snake!" someone cried.

"It's a giant worm!"

"Don't be thick, it's a train!" Fred Weasley shouted.

Harry squinted his eyes against the blackness and saw, to his excitement, it really _was_ a train.

But it didn't look anything like the Hogwarts Express. While his familiar train was wide and boxy, the train nearing them was sleek and as skinny as an oversized truck, with a pointed nose in the front and colored a brilliant silver.

"Well, it would be fast," Ron muttered lowly.

"Too fast," Harry said, watching the train coming closer and closer without slowing down. "It's not gonna have time to stop!"

The train flashed up the slope to the castle and Harry felt like taking a step backwards. A loud screeching _REEETCHHH_ echoed loudly in the air, and before Harry could blink, the tall silver train was stopped peacefully in front of them all, standing like it had been there for several minuets.

Ron's eyes were wide. "Wh—"

The sides of the silver train popped open outwardly and to the sides, and Harry saw the whole side of it was decorated with a big flag that was colored red, white, and blue. The several open doors stopped, and a youngish looking, short, thin woman, dressed in dark purple robes with long blonde hair pinned up in a bun stepped out of the train proudly.

Her gaze fell over the crowd in front of her, before her eyes landed on Dumbledore and she smiled widely. "Dumbledore! It's good to see you again!" she said with a soft voice.

The woman stepped away from the train and met Dumbledore halfway with a handshake and a kiss to the woman's hand. They met each other's eyes and they stared at each other like they were sharing a whole conversation with just their eyes. After a moment, the woman looked away and smiled warmly at Dumbledore.

"My dear Professor Varginna," Dumbledore said. Harry saw Hermione stand a little straighter and squint her eyes at the newest Head Mistress with uncornered interest at mention of her name. "How was your trip?"

"Long," she smiled easily. Harry had a feeling that the woman smiled a lot. Professor Varginna's eyes came up to look at the students again. "Is this them then?" she asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Professor Varginna, these are my students of Hogwarts."

Professor Varginna nodded her head to them in acknowledgment, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little proud at being a student here. He also couldn't help but smile back at the short woman. "It is an honor to meet you," Varginna said seriously. "As I hope it will be to you for my own students."

She waved her hand behind her and boys and girls dressed in navy blue robes with black ties stepped out of the silver train and lined themselves up behind her. "These are my students, Dumbledore. It has been a long trip, may we come in?"

Dumbledore nodded graciously. "Of course, why don't we all—"

"Oi! They don't look older than sixteen! He looks barely older than fifteen!" a fourth Slytherine yelled and pointed to a short boy in the front of the line.

Said boy, blushed a brilliant shade of red, and murmurs of agreement ran through the lines of Hogwarts students.

"Professor that's not fair!" cried a fifth year Ravenclaw.

"—said we had to older than 16!" a Hufflepuff yelled in agreement.

Suddenly more than several students were talking at once.

"OI!" Ron shouted at them all, demanding silence.

Hogwarts students looked to him, and Harry could see the base of Ron's neck turn a little red, but Ron went on indignantly. "Shut your blocks! They start school a year ahead of us! There fifth years _are_ sixth years technically!"

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall yelled in outrage.

Ron glanced at her and smiled apologetically. "Right, sorry Professor."

"Mr. Weasley happens to be right," Dumbledore cut in. "Magnavox's training starts a year ahead of our own, and I would hope that each of you keep in mind that things between different schools will not be seen the same as our own. We are different and our school policies will be different. Five points for Gryffindor Mr. Weasley, for seeing that in advance."

The Gryffindor's smiled at each other and Ron smiled shortly before glancing at a very sour looking McGonagall. Harry noticed that Professor Varginna was staring at after Ron with an unusual expression on her face.

"Now, without further interruptions, let us head inside," Dumbledore said, taking Varginna by the hand graciously in the lead.

Hogwarts students filed in behind the Magnavox students and Harry still heard people gushing over Victor Krum as they entered the Entrance Hall.

"Did you see him? Oh I'd love me a piece of that—"

"—has a girlfriend yet?"

"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me—"

"Do you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"For heaven's sake, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

"'_Only a Quidditch player'_?" echoed Ron as if he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione—he's one of the best seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still in school!"

"Oh honestly," said Hermione loftily as they passed the girls squabbling over lipstick, "It isn't all that amazing."

"Well, _I'm _getting his autograph, if I can," said Ron. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," said Harry.

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down, watching the Durmstrang students stand around the doorway, looking apparently, for a place to sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen to sit at the Ravenclaw table. They were looking around the Ravenclaw table with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads.

"It's not _that_ cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Over here! Come and sit over here! Hermione, budge up, make space—" said Ron.

"What?"

"Too late," said Ron bitterly.

Victor Krum and his fellow students had settled themselves at the Slytherine table. Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy leaned forwards and began to talk with Victor.

"Yea, that's right, swarm up to him Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him though, bet he gets people fawning over him all the time…"

Harry thought he heard Hermione snort.

"Uh, excuse us, do you mind us sitting here?" a teenage girl with short red hair, blue eyes, and in navy blue robes asked, looking over to Harry, Dean, and Seamus sitting by each other. Harry looked over to the girl who was accompanied by a large group of other navy blue robed students and Dean and Seamus smiled.

"'Course, sit on down, our barks worse than our bite, promise," Dean winked. The girl rolled her eyes but smiled and motioned for the rest of the students around her to sit down.

A blonde girl with a familiar rounded chin sat down next to her, but looked over the heads of everyone else. Harry could have sworn he had seen her before. "Do you see her, I thought she was just—"she said to the first girl with the short red hair, "Ah—there she is!" the girl stood up and waved her hand in the air furiously. "Gwen!" she raised her voice. "Gwen! Gwen! ... Gwenith!"

Harry turned to look at who the girl was yelling at and he felt his stomach fall to his feet. Hurrying over from the doorway of the Entrance Hall, was a tall girl with long reddish-brown hair. The girl from the Quidditch World Cup.

"Kate!" the girl from the Quidditch Cup said relieved. "Oh good, I thought I had lost you out there!"

"Come on," the girl named Kate said patting the open spot next to her, "I saved you a seat with me and Mary."

Gwen sat down, directly across from Harry and looked up just as Harry had looked over at her again. Their eyes met and Harry noticed that she had green eyes. Not as bright as his, but she had a light hazel brown ring right around the pupil that spread quickly outwards into a dark green. It was quite pretty, Harry thought.

"_You_," Gwen said, blinking a couple times before leaning forwards at him. "I _know_ you. You were at the Quidditch World Cup!"

Harry nodded. "Yea, we uh—saw each other by the faucets," he agreed.

Gwen smiled and nodded. "Yea, that's right, we did. I didn't get a chance to say hello, you were already on your way out."

Harry shrugged apologetically, but felt a little warm that she had wanted to say hello to him. "I was with my mates. We had to get back to our tent."

"Ahh," Gwen nodded again. "Well, I guess it's good to see you again. I'm Gwen Fords." She held out her hand from across the table and Harry reached out as well.

"Harry Potter," he said, shaking her hand.

The other navy blue robed students stopped talking and stared over at Harry quietly, some staring at his face and others looking at where his scar was hidden.

Gwen's friend, Kate, beside her, raised her eyebrows up. "Harry P—"

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts—and most particularly—guests," Dumbledore's voice boomed across the room, quieting the people sitting in it. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

"Durmstrang looks a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," Ron commented, making Harry look to the Slytherine table.

The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up their golden plates and examining them, apparently impressed.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast. I now invite you all to eat, drink and make yourselves at home!" Dumbledore smiled behind his beard.

Up at the staff table, Filch was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see him adding five chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore.

"But there are only three extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out five chairs? Who else is coming?"

"Eh?" said Ron distractively; he was still staring after Krum avidly.

"Judges maybe?" Gwen answered.

"Maybe," Harry nodded.

The Staff sat down and began eating as well, leaving the two seats open.

As soon as the tables filled with food, Harry noticed something different. Ron did as well. "What's _that_?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," said Ron.

"It's _French_," said Hermione. "I had it on a holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," Ron said helping himself to some chicken wings next to it.

The Great Hall seemed much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely sixty more additional students; perhaps it was because of their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts robes. Now that the Durmstrang students had removed their robes, it was revealed to be colored of a deep blood red.

Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minuets after the start of the feast. He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Hermione and Ron with a very heavily bandaged hand.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers."

At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" It was one of the girls from Beauxbatons who had their shawls wrapped around their heads from the cold. She had finally removed the shawl though, and along sheet of silvery blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep, blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

Ron went purple. He stared at her, opened his mouth to answer her, but nothing came out except for an odd gurgling noise.

Gwen, Kate, and Mary smiled and laughed silently behind their hands.

"Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish towards the girl.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"Yeah," said Ron breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent."

The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh and the sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses.

"She's a _veela!" _he said hoarsely to Harry.

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

But she wasn't entirely right about that. As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron.

"I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry, watching as the girl with the silvery blond hair sat across from Cho Chang.

Kate turned to look at what Harry was staring at and nudged Gwen. "Nice Harry," Kate smiled. "Nice."

"When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch was sitting next to Madame Maxime.

"What are _they_ doing here?" said Harry in surprise.

Gwen and Kate looked at each other in confusion.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament," said Hermione. "I suppose they want to be here to see it start."

"Who _are_ they?" Kate asked.

"Who are you?" Ron asked back, now seemingly to notice the new girl's presence.

"Gwen Ford," Gwen said smiling knowingly.

"Mary Scott," said the redhead with the blue eyes.

"Kate Daniels," Kate said, pushing her blonde hair behind her ears.

Ron squinted his eyes at Kate. "You look familiar. Why?"

Kate shrugged her shoulders. "I've never seen you before. But I look a lot like my aunt."

Ron frowned. "Do we know her then?"

Kate nodded to the Staff table. "Professor Varginna. She's my aunt."

"The Head Mistress of your school?" Harry asked, realizing why she looked familiar to him too.

Kate nodded. "Well, we call her the Principal, but yea, I guess Head Mistress would do too."

"So is that why you're here? To enter because your aunt wants you to?" Seamus asked, listening in to their conversation.

Kate shook her head. "Naw, I wanted to join. Me and Mary just turned fifteen, so, thought we might as well join in on our chance to see what happens."

"And you?" Harry asked Gwen.

"Just turned fourteen. Thought I might as well try out my chance as well," Gwen smiled.

"What? But—but you _can't_. The age restriction for your school is 15 isn't it?" Ron asked.

"Yea, you're right, but I got special permission from Professor Varginna and the Governor of Magical Games in California," Gwen said. "I had to do a lot of paperwork, and do a lot of tests, but if you test in well, you _can_ try out. They don't tell you that you can't join because of your age, they tell you that you can't join because you don't _know enough_." Gwen shrugged her shoulders and dug in to a piece of apple pie. "If you can prove to them you know enough, they'll let you in. I only had to do a couple of next year's spells and they said I could join in."

Ron shook his head. "Un –bloody believable."

"So you're joining too then?" Harry asked. "You're going to try to win the thousand galleons?"

"And eternal glory," Gwen nodded with a smile. "I doubt I'll get picked, but who knows you know? Maybe I will and I can get the internship into The Salem Witches Institute. Being at least picked for the Tournament might be able to get me into pre-classes."

"You're joining The Salem Witches Institute?" Hermione asked, putting down her pudding spoon. "At fourteen?"

Gwen nodded. "Trying to—at least. I figure that, you know, if I can get chosen, it will impress them enough to let me go in for a couple extra classes during the summer."

"Sorry—" Dean said, jumping in. "But what's the Salem whatcha-ma-call-it?"

"It's a sort of collage," Hermione said waving her hand in dismissal. "Ask Seamus what that is," she turned back to Gwen. "But I thought they weren't accepting students under eighteen?"

"Not officially," Gwen nodded, "but they take in interns to help out around the campus and stuff. It's just as good as actually going there, you get to go in the summer classes and everything," she smiled.

Hermione smiled back, looking off into the air. "Mum wanted me to go there after Hogwarts, when we found out about in second year. It seems like it would be a lot of fun."

"Going to school in the summer?" Ron scrunched his nose and frowned at the prospect. "You'd do that willingly?"

Gwen nodded. "To get into the best magical school in America? Definitely. You're guaranteed a job the minuet you graduate."

"You're fourteen, our age! You don't have to think about that stuff for a couple more years!" Ron exclaimed.

"You're taking your O.W.L.S. next _year_," Gwen said. "Those are going to define your whole life!"

"Yea, but—"

Dumbledore stood up from the staff table, and a pleasant sort of tension filled the Hall, silencing the entire room. Harry felt a thrill of excitement, and noticed Dean and Seamus looking forwards in total concentration.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket—"

"The what?" Harry muttered.

Ron shrugged.

"—just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first let me introduce, to those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation—" there was a smattering of polite applause, "—and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." Mr. Bagman was given a much louder applause and he waved merrily back at them with a large smile.

"Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself and, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime and Professor Varginna on the panel that will judge the champions efforts."

At the mention of the word 'champions' the attentiveness in the room seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled and said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch."

Filch approached Dumbledore with a large wooden chest embroidered with large gems on the sides and the top. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be four tasks, instead of three because of our newest addition this year, they will be spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess—their daring—their powers of deduction—and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At his last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, four champions will compete in the tournament this year," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after the fourth task will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked open slowly. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the Goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The Goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

"Also," said Dumbledore, "to ensure that no wizard who is not allowed to compete, will not yield to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected, he or she is obliged to see the Tournament through to the end. The placing of your name into the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet."

Harry turned slightly to look at Gwen from the corner of his eye. Her reddish-brown hair was hanging behind her shoulders, and her green eyes were glued to Dumbledore, grasping onto every word like it was the difference between life and death.

"Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all," Dumbledore finished.

"Wish me luck," Gwen said to Ron, Harry, and Hermione with a smile as she got up from the tables with everyone else."

"Good luck then," Harry said back with an acknowledging nod.

"You're really going to do it?" Ron asked. Gwen nodded. "Right, well, yeah. Good luck."

Gwen smiled and offered a hand at Ron. "Sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"Ron," Ron answered. "Ron Weasley." They shook hands.

Gwen turned to Hermione. "And you?" she asked with another hand.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione answered shaking her hand as well. "And good luck."

Gwen smiled, and Harry couldn't help but think at how pretty she looked when she did. "Thanks, you know, I hope we can all be friends during this, whether I'm picked or not. Isn't all this what it's supposed to be about anyways?"

"Yea," said Ron. "I s'pose we get along well enough. You don't seem to have any Slytherine in you. We'll be seeing you tomorrow for breakfast then?"

Gwen nodded and grinned at the corners of her mouth as they turned away. "Bye!"

Seamus and Dean walked up to them from behind, already deep in a conversation. "An age line!" Dean said, his eyes glinting as they made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall.

"You still think that an age potion will work on it then?" Seamus asked.

"I still don't think anyone under sixteen will stand a chance," said Hermione, her eyes following Gwen who had left with her respective students, "we just haven't learned enough, no matter what they think they've done…"

"Speak for yourself," said Dean shortly. "You'll try and get in won't you Harry?"

Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under sixteen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Triwizard Tournament filled his mind again… he wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than sixteen _did_ find a way to get over the Age Line…

"Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang will be sleeping, did he?"

But his question had been answered almost immediately; they were level with the Slytherine table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students. "Back to the ship then," he was saying. "Victor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.

Karkaroff nodded quickly and led his students toward the doors, reaching them exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped to let them walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too with dawning comprehension on their faces.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fear and fury came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the hold-up.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

"What a nutter," Ron muttered. Harry wondered who he was talking about; Moody or Karkaroff.

* * *

**Don't forget to vote on my Profile page for who you want to be Hogwart's champion :D**

**You now have met Harry's future lover. Can you guess who it is? **

**UP NEXT: Names are revealed, Harry gets a shock, and Moody has a temper.**


	4. A Bad Surprise and a Friendship

**All rights are reserved to J.K. Rowling. **

**RESULTS ARE IN. **

**Enjoy the chapter. :D**

* * *

October 31 was a Saturday and most students would normally have breakfast late. Harry, Ron, and Hermione however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on the weekends. When they went down to the entrance hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, but all examining the Goblet of Fire.

It had been placed in the center of the Hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot, a couple of the Magnavox as well," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've if it had been me… wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the Goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Dean, Seamus, Fred, George and Lee Jordan hurrying down the stair case, all of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Seamus said in a dramatic whisper to Harry, Ron and Hermione as he walked towards them. "Just taken it with Dean."

"What?" asked Ron.

"Aging Potion, dung breath," said Fred.

"One drop each," said Dean rubbing his hands together with glee. "Whipped it up just last night with Fred, George and Lee here."

"You're encouraging this?" Hermione asked Fred and George, her tone revealing not being all that surprised.

"It's nothing more than a business transaction," Fred smiled at her.

"Really," Hermione said.

"See if Dean or Seamus gets chosen and wins," George started, "then they give each of us 100 galleons." He pointed to himself, Fred and Lee. "If any one of us gets picked and wins, then we give Dean and Seamus 50 galleons."

"Only 50?" asked Ron. "While each of you get 100?"

"We think it only fair, after all, we made the potion for them," Fred smiled wider.

"Either way though, all of us get some money out of it," Dean nodded wholeheartedly.

"You're getting chipped mate," Ron argued. "Only 50!"

"50's more than none at all," Seamus said back.

"You're all talking about this as if you actually _do_ win. There is no guarantee that you'll get in," Hermione added in quickly. "And what happens if Dean and Seamus's names don't work in the fire? Then what?"

Fred and George looked at each other. "Then the deal's off," they said together with Lee nodding in agreement in the background.

Hermione looked to Dean and Seamus. "I'm sure that this is not going to work you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore would have thought of this."

Dean, Seamus, Fred, George and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Dean said to the boys around him, quivering with excitement. "C'mon then—I'll go first—"

Harry watched, fascinated, as Dean pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words _Dean Thomas—Hogwarts_. Dean walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty foot drop. Seamus walked up beside him with his own slip of parchment clutched in his hand and together, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall on them, they took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second, Harry thought it had worked—Seamus certainly thought so, for he let out a hell of triumph, but in the next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurtled out of the golden circle as though they had been pulled out by an invisible fishing string.

They landed painfully on their backs, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud _pop_ping noise, and both of them grew identical looking beards.

There was a moment of dead silence throughout the Hall, before the Weasley twins broke out in hysterical laughter, and the rest of the Entrance Hall followed suit very loudly. Dean and Seamus looked at one another and laughed as well, twirling their hands over their mustaches and grinning evilly.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Dean and Seamus with twinkling eyes. "I suggest you both go up to Madame Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little. Though I must say, neither of their beards were as fine as yours."

Dean and Seamus set off for the hospital wing, their laughter multiplying as both of them tugged on the others beard during the walk of joyous shame.

Dumbledore looked to Lee, Fred and George with his half-mooned eyeglasses. "And you three?" he asked.

Fred smiled and pulled out a piece of paper that read _Fred Weasley—Hogwarts _ out for Dumbledore to see. "I've got mine right here."

Dumbledore stared at him with twinkling eyes and Fred and George glanced at each other before the both of them stepped into the golden circle. Lee came in after them and all three of them deposited their scraps of paper into the Goblet together, grinning like Christmas had come early when the Goblet's blue fire glowed red for a moment, officially accepting their application.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron smiled as well for them, and headed off to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats were fluttering were fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner.

Harry made his way over to Neville who was sitting beside Ginny, talking about the students of Hogwarts who might be entering .

"There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Neville told Harry as they sat down around the pair. "That big bloke from Slytherine who looks like a sloth."

Ron shook his head in disgust. "We can't have a Slytherine Champion!" Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, nodded in full-hearted agreement.

"Angelina Johnson put her name in last night," Ginny said smartly.

Harry was surprised. "Did she? When?"

"I suspect when everyone went off to bed. Don't think she wanted anyone watching her do it."

Harry grinned. "See Ron? Wouldn't have just been me."

"You put your name in the Goblet?" Ginny asked, her eyes snapping to Harry.

"What? No. No, I only meant that if I could I would have done it without everyone staring at me."

Ginny nodded, looking at him closely. "Well, all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Ginny, "but I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

"'_Good looks_'?" Ron echoed his sister with a red face that was starting to look a little purple at the edges. "Ginny you can't tell me you think the slime-ball's cute! As my little sister I don't —"

"Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

A group of people were cheering in the Entrance Hall. They all swiveled in their seats and saw Gwen Ford, from the night before, walk between a cheering Kate and Mary with other Magnavox students around them cheering her on as well as they came in the Hall.

"Well," Gwen smiled, as the group of students got to the Gryffindor table. "I just did it. Put my name in, I mean. It's now officially up for grabs as being a possible Magnavox champion."

"Congratulations," Ginny said, watching her as she sat across from Harry.

"Better you than Melissa," Kate agreed, sitting next to Gwen's immediate right.

"Who?" Ron asked.

Gwen waved her hand in dismissal. "Just a girl in our school. She's had it out for me since my first year."

"Gwen and Melissa are arch-nemeses," Mary smiled, sitting down at Gwen's left. "It's almost Batman and Joker bad between them."

"Batman?" Ron asked. "Wha's a Batman?"

Ginny grimaced. "Joker sounds like a bloke with a bad ego about his tricks."

Hermione grinned and laughed behind a cup of orange juice. Harry felt the tugs of a smile at his mouth. "It's a muggle comic Ron. They're supposed to be worst enemies."

"So like you and Malfoy," said Ginny raising an eyebrow.

"Or you and You-Know-Who," Ron mumbled under his breath.

"What's a Malfoy?" Kate asked.

Ron laughed this time, although a little darkly. "A pure-blood-loving-good-for-nothing-gullable-ruddy-pumpkin-head-suck-up—"

"Really don't like him do you?" Gwen asked folding her hands on the table with a solid stare at Ron.

"You wouldn't either if you met him. The Bloody idiot—"

"Ronald!" Hermione whispered icily.

"Is he in your house, or age group? Is he putting in his name for the Tournament?" Gwen asked.

"He's in Slytherine, our year; thank Merlin he can't put his name in. Can you imagine Hogwarts having a champion like _that_?"

"Harry, Ron, Hermione!" Hagrid's booming voice said happily behind them.

The teenagers all turned, and Hagrid smiled happily, walking up to them. "Did I hear 'ya talkin 'bout the Triwizard Tournament?"

"About whose putting their names in for Hogwarts," Ginny said.

"You jus' wait," he said grinning. "Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task…, ah, but I'm not s'pose ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Ron, Hermione, Gwen, Ginny and the others urged him, but he just shook his head grinning.

"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "but it's gonna be spectacular I'll tell yeh that. Them champions are going ter have their work cut out fer them. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

"Oh, won't you give us at least a hint!" Kate asked, her eyes wide.

"Oh yer know I can' do that—" Hagrid looked closer at the girl and seemed to realize she was from a different school. Hagrid leaned back on his heels in surprise. "Gulpin Gargoyles! Nearly gave me self away!"

"Oh Mr. Hagrid, could you tell us just one little hint about what's going to happen?" Gwen smiled prettily immediately afterwards.

"Mr. Hagrid," Hagrid shook his head like he couldn't quite believe it. "Yeh could be a champion!" Hagrid said looking her over once. "From Magnavox then?"

Gwen nodded and extended a hand. "Gwen Fords Mr. Hagrid," she said.

Hagrid looked pleasantly pleased at the title. "Er—no need to call meh that. Mr. Hagrid was me dad."

"Then Professor?" Gwen said.

Hagrid nodded, shook her hand, and smiled. "Yeh always find the goo'd ones Harry."

Gwen smiled and shrugged a shoulder. "He'd better have. He was a bit of a stalker actually."

Harry looked over at Gwen a little more surprised than hurt, before he saw the grin she was carrying wide across her face, and Harry snorted. "You were starin back!"

"Staring at… at what?" Ginny asked looking between the two.

Harry shook his head and Hagrid laughed, catching the attention of the students sitting around the group of Gryffindors and Magnavox students.

At the end of the day, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into a very full, candle-light lit, Great Hall. The Goblet of fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's chair at the teacher's table. Dean and Seamus – freshly shaven—seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well.

"Hope it's, Fred, George or Lee," Dean said as the trio sat down.

"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll know soon!"

"I just hope it's someone from Gryffindor," Seamus said with Ron nodding in agreement.

Fred and George sat down across from the trio and Dean and Seamus, grinning, but looking tense.

Down the tale, Harry saw Gwen and her two friends sitting side-by-side with their heads together in excitement. Gwen looked up, like she could feel his stare and waved slightly when their eyes met. Harry smiled back as his sort of greeting.

Dumbledore appeared in front of all the sitting teachers, next to the Goblet and the nervous chattering died almost instantly. One the other side of him, Professor Karkaroff, Varginna and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was waving and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it needs one more minuet. Now when the champions names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber, where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and made a grand sweeping wave with it, extinguishing all the lights except for the ones in the many jack-o-lanterns around the room. The Goblet of Fire shone more brightly than anything else in the room, the sparkling bright, bluey-whitness of the fire almost painful on the eyes. Every one watched, waiting… a few people kept glancing at their watches…

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from inside it. In the next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air leaving a charred looking piece of paper falling from the air—the whole room gasped as one.

Dumbledore plucked the paper easily from the air, and read it from an arm's length away. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read in a strong, clear, voice, "will be Victor Krum."

"No surprise there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Victor rise from the Slytherine table and walk up to Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door in the next chamber.

"Bravo Victor!" boomed Karkaroff so loudly, that everyone could hear him, even over the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chanting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames. Once again though, Dumbledore caught it with surprisingly nimble fingers.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore said, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"It's her Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook her mane of blond hair from her face, and swept up to the hidden room.

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remained of the Beauxbatons party.

Disappointment, though, was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved to tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

"Pity," Dean said nudging Seamus. "The ladies look pretty heart broken, don't they?"

Seamus looked over at the girls. "Oh, oh yea… yea could do with a bit of brightening up."

"Brightening up?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Code word for snogging Hermione," Fred grinned wickedly.

George looked thoughtful. "Though I do see their point Fred, oh brother of mine, they do seem in the need for a bit of Hogwarts Love."

Hermione snorted quite unlady-like.

"Oi! We saw em' first, we get first dibs!" Dean said.

"You really think a toss of beautiful girls would go after two little kids younger than them? Or do they would go for a bit of older, more…" George started.

"…mature men," Fred finished for him. "Who, by the way, will also be Hogwarts champion."

George and Fred grinned together at the prospect. Dean and Seamus opened their mouths, ready to argue furiously, but Hermione cut them off. "Hush! The Cup's glowing again."

And indeed it was. The Goblet of Fire once more turned red and shot a piece of paper into the air, high above the heads of the watching students. Dumbledore caught the paper and read its lines. "The Magnavox's champion," he called loudly in the now silent room, "is Gwen Fords!"

The students from Magnavox stood up in their seats and cheered in the next moment. Looking down the table, Harry saw Gwen stare unseeing into the air, like she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing. Kate clapped her on the back and it broke Gwen's shock. Suddenly, a huge smile was lifted on her face and she stood up with her fist in the air.

Harry clapped along with the rest of the other students new enthusiastic cheering, and barely recognized a small group of Magnavox students looking particularly sour in the face. Gwen stepped away from the Gryffindor table, smiling at her Head Mistress before heading inside the hidden room.

And then suddenly, the Great Hall was tense and filled with a thick silence. All three foreign schools had been called, and now it was time for the Hogwarts champion. Fred, George, and Lee were staring with new passion at the cup, each one of them silently begging with their eyes to be the next ones called.

The Goblet of Fire turned red again. Red flames burned brightly for a moment, before a piece of parchment fell from the sky and Dumbledore caught it neatly in his hands. He read the paper from arm's length again. "The champion for Hogwarts," he said, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"No!" said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to their feet, screaming and stamping their feet, as Cedric made his way past them, with a huge grin across his face and made his way into the hidden room behind the teachers table. The applause went on for so long it took Dumbledore several minutes before he could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the noise died down. "We now have our three champions! I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Magnavox, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you can contribute in a very real—"

Dumbledore stopped speaking suddenly, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the Goblet of Fire had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and a single piece of charred parchment came fluttering down from above. Dumbledore caught it firmly and held it out of arms reach from himself. He stared at the name for a moment, before he pulled the paper closer to his face and read it again as if he had misread.

Dumbledore looked up wards to all the waiting students holding their breath. "Harry Potter," he said.

Harry's stomach dropped to his feet. No, no that can't be right. Harry couldn't have possibly been in there, he hadn't even put his name in!

Heads turned from all over the Great Hall. He was stunned. He felt numb. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly. Professor McGonagall stood up from the teachers table and walked towards Dumbledore, whispering furiously into his ear.

There was no applause. A sort of low buzz was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a closer look at Harry.

"Harry?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked towards his best friends and the rest of the Gryffindor table whose mouths were wide open in shock. "I didn't put my name in," he said blankly. "You know I didn't."

Dumbledore nodded his head at Professor McGonagall and straightened up. "Harry Potter! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving him a slight push.

Harry didn't move. Didn't want to move. The buzzing was getting louder and some people were starting to stare at him like he had caught a deadly disease. He didn't really think he _could_ get up, truth be told.

"Harry, honestly!" Hermione grabbed the back of Harry's robes and pulled him upwards on to his feet for a head start.

The student body's eyes followed him as he stood up and the buzzing lowered to almost a whisper. Harry turned to Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall and kept his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's pointed blue hat. His feet started to move and head off towards the teachers table.

It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and he could almost feel the hundreds of eyes on him as though each were a search light. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well, through the door Harry," Dumbledore said. He wasn't smiling.

"It's a joke!" someone from the Hufflepuff table shouted.

"He's not even sixteen yet!"

"He can't enter!"

"That's a cheat! You can't-"

Voices rose over each other and Harry ducked his head. He walked to the teacher's door, glancing up once to look at Hagrid at the end of the table who just stared open mouthed like all the other students. He opened the door through to the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire roared in the fireplace opposite him.

Victor Krum, Cedric Diggory, Gwen Fords and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other three. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Gwen was looking down at her hands off to the side. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze hall?"

She thought he had come to deliver a message, Harry thought. Though, he didn't know how to explain what just happened. He just stood there, looking at the three champions.

"Harry?" Gwen asked turning around to face him from the fireplace. The orange light from the fire highlighted the red in her auburn hair around her. "What's going on? Are you o—"

A sound of scurrying feet entered the room and Ludo Bagman showed up behind Harry. He took Harry by the arm and led him forwards to the other champions.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Ladies and gentlemen," he said approaching the fire and addressing the other four. "May I introduce—incredible though it may seem—the _fifth_ Triwizard Champion?"

Victor Krum straightened up. His surely face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though he must had misheard what Bagman had said. Gwen scrunched her eyebrows together on her forehead like someone had given her a complicated question to answer. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Gwen looked from Harry to Bagman and back again, over and over. Fleur frowned.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. "'E cannot compete. 'E is too young."

"I thought only those who were sixteen could enter from Hogwarts," Gwen said staring at Bagman with leveled eyes. "Was my assumption wrong?"

"Well, no… it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the Goblet… I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage… it's down in the rules, you're obliged… Harry will just have to do the best he—"

The door behind them opened again and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor Varginna, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur cried at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. _Little boy?_

Madame Maxime drew herself up to her full, and considerable height. "What is ze meaning of zis Dumbly-dorr?"

"I'd rather like to know that myself Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "_Two _Hogwarts Champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions—or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand was resting on Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

Professor Varginna looked disturbed. "I don't understand how this could have happened. It's not possible for the Goblet to pick two from the same school. It's never done that before."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly, his black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here—"

"Thank you Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Professor Dumbledore looked down at Harry. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put your name in the Goblet for you?" said Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"_No_," said Harry vehemently.

"But of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was shaking his head, his lip curling.

"The boy is telling the truth," Professor Varginna said. Harry glanced at Magnavox's headmistress, and surprisingly, met his eyes with her dark brown.

Snape scoffed. "The senses of a—"

"That's enough Severus," Dumbledore cut in. "If Varginna says he speaks the truth, it would be wise to listen to her council."

"Mr. Crouch… Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, "you are our –er—objective judges. Surely you will agree this is most irregular?"

Mr. Bagman looked to Crouch. "We must follow the rules, and the rules clearly state that those people whose names come from the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," Bagman said beaming and turning back to Madame Maxime and Karkaroff, as though the matter were officially closed.

"Be 'e is too young!" Madame Maxime cried.

"After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!" Karkaroff boomed.

The door opened once more and Moody entered into the room. "Empty threat Karkaroff," he said limping towards the fire. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

"Convenient?" asked Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." The Professor's hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes narrowing with every word.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple Karkaroff. Someone put Potters name in the Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze same apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff bowing to her slightly. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic _and_ the International Confederation of Wizards—"

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but funny thing is… I don't hear him saying a word…"

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur, stamping her foot. "'E as ze chance to compete,'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money—zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter _is_ going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl.

A tense silence followed his statement. Ludo Bagman bounced on the balls of his feet. "Moody, old man… what a thing to say!"

Karkaroff scoffed. "We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," he said loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Darks Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put his name in the Goblet!"

"An, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime throwing up her hands.

"They hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to make the Goblet forget that there was only four schools competing in the tournament. I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category…"

"You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought _Mad-eye_," Karkaroff nearly spit.

Moody's magical eye zoomed around his head before landing on Karkaroff's face in a deadly halt. "It was once my job to think the way Dark wizards do Karkaroff—as you ought to remember…"

"This is helping Alastor!" Dumbledore said warningly. Harry wondered for a moment who he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-eye" could hardly be Moody's first name. Moody fell silent, looking satisfactory at a now burning Karkaroff's face.

"How this situation arose, we don't know," speaking to everyone in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to except it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the tournament, this therefore, they will do…"

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr…"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative I would be delighted to hear it," Dumbledore said.

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not say a word; she did though, glare furiously at all both Dumbledore and then Harry. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious, Karakaroff livid; Bagman though, seemed excited.

"Well, shall we move on then?" he said bouncing on the tips of his toes and rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?"

Mr. Crouch seemed to shake him self, as if coming out a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, straightening up. "Yes... the first task..."

He moved towards the firelight. Close up, Harry thought the older man looked sickly. There were shadows beneath his eyes and a thin papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he said to Harry, Cedric, Fleur, Krum, and Gwen, "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face unknown is an important quality in a wizard... very important..."

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges," Bagman jumped in excitedly.

"Yes...Yes...The champions are not permitted to ask for help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end of the year tests... well, that is of course, except for you Miss Fords."

Harry glanced at Gwen, partly in surprise and partly in confusion, and she nodded her head at Barty Crouch with leveled eyes. Maybe it had to do with her being so young, Harry thought, and then feeling oddly guilty that he now didn't have to take their tests like the rest of the champions.

Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that is all, is it not, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is very busy, very difficult time at the moment... i have left young Weatherby in charge... Very enthusiastic... a little over enthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on Barty, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, a glass of-"

But Madame Maxime already had her arm around Fleur and was speaking very fast together in French as they walked swiftly out of the room. Kararoff beckoned to Krum, and they too, left in silence.

Dumbledore and Professor Varginna looked at each other and they nodded at each other as if once again, they were having some sort of silent conversation together just with their eyes. Harry wondered for the first time if magic extended to being able to read other peoples mind and being able to have some sort of communication to each other like a telephone.

Professor Varginna looked over to Gwen. "Head back to the train Miss Fords. Keep your class quiet in your celebrations, there are lessons tomorrow." Harry watched at Professor Varginna's eyes bore down on Gwen, and for a second, Harry thought he eyes turned a different color. Golden maybe, or something brighter. He blinked trying catch the look again, but whatever it was, was long gone by the time Professor Varginna looked away from a nodding Gwen and back to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore glanced towards Snape and then at Professor Varginna. "Severus, if you would so kind as to show Varginna her way out."

Severus glared at Dumbledore, as if _no_, he would not like to be as kind to, but he nodded sharply anyways and headed out of the room with Varginna at his heels, glancing at Gwen one last time as she headed out.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you get up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling to both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry glanced at Cedric and Gwen, still in the room and nodded. They all left together.

The Great Hall was deserted now, the candles had burned low, giving the large room long shadows against the carved faces of the pumpkins in the room.

"So," said Cedric, braking the silence between the three of them. "Harry, looks like we'll be playing against each other again!"

"I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything else to say. The inside of his brain scrambled, like it had been ransacked.

"You two have a history?" Gwen asked looking over at Cedric.

Cedric smiled and nodded. "Last year. We're both seekers on our house quidditch team."

Gwen nodded, accepting that part of the story, and Harry was slightly glad Cedric didn't tell her about the dementors attacking him and him falling off his broomstick halfway through the game. He kept his hands in front of him and they walked in silence for a bit more.

"So tell me," Cedric said as they all reached the Entrance Hall, "How _did_ you put your name into the Goblet?"

"I didn't," Harry said staring up at him. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"Ah...okay," said Cedric. Harry could tell he didn't believe him. "Well... see you then. Goodnight Gwen."

"Night Cedric," Gwen said back automatically, watching as the older boy disappeared behind a corner. She turned to him and crossed her arms over her chest. "He doesn't believe you."

Harry swallowed a bitter tug at the back of his throat. "Yea, I know."

"No one is going to believe you."

Harry felt like denying that, but he knew Cedric would only be the first in a long line of people. People like Snape, Draco, and so many others wouldn't even think twice about calling him a liar. "I know."

"People are going to accuse you of cheating."

"I know."

"They're going to try and put you down about it."

"I know."

"Some at your own school will start to hate you."

"I _know_."

Gwen unfolded her arms over her chest and put each hand on a hip. "They won't believe it, but I do."

"I _kno_- wait, what?" Harry asked, blinking.

"I believe you," she said simply, looking at him as a scientist would a new specimen under a microscope. "Professor Varginna believes you, so I believe you."

"I- thanks?"

Gwen looked away from him and shook her head. "Don't be. You don't seem to have a mental health issue, and you don't come off a guy with a death wish. You also don't seem to like the lime-light to much either." She looked at the Entrance Hall door with a frown. "Professor Varginna can smell people lying, so if she says you aren't... you aren't."

Harry didn't know if Gwen was being literal or not. "Smell?" he asked.

Gwen looked back at him and put her hands down by her side without emotion. "Yea, smell. She's got a really good nose, even for a werewolf."

Harry's eyebrows lept upwards. "She- she-what?"

"Werewolf. Half human and half wolf. You know... full moon and such. She shifts on the full-"

"No. I mean yes, I know what a werewolf is. My dads best friend is a werewolf. He used to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... I just... I mean, I didn't realize_ she_ was a werewolf."

Gwen looked Harry straight in the eyes, and she put her hands behind her back carefully. "You...you don't have anything against her then?" Gwen asked, staring at Harry as if he was being tested.

"Urg... no. She hasn't tried killing me. She's a headmaster... and she doesn't seem like a..._ bad_ person." Harry wondered if he sounded as stupid to Gwen as he did to him at that moment.

"You don't care she's a werewolf?"

"I gave me a surprise, if that's what you're asking. I only know one other werewolf, so I haven't met a lot, but she seems like an alright type I guess. I haven't really met her, with you know, her being your... headmaster... and all."

Gwen stared at him again for a couple seconds before she broke out in a smile. A type of smile that crinkled her eyes at the corners and lifted her face in a sort of white light. A pretty light. It reminded Harry of Cho... or maybe a veela. It was pretty. It felt warm.

"I knew you were an alright guy," she said, her smile bright against him. "I thought you might have been sort of an asshat with all the attention that must have been on you throughout your life, but you seem... good."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I- yea thanks, I guess," he said running his hand through his hair. "I never got all that much attention from people here, so...I mean, that could be why, you know." Harry couldn't tell if he was being defensive, or just trying to make her understand, when really, why was he trying to explain this to her at all?

"People didn't flock to you?"

"They did after I got to school... but before that... I didn't even know I was famous."

Gwen's eyebrows came up high on her forehead. "You... you didn't know you were famous?"

Harry shook his head, a small part of his mind arguing louder about why he was talking to an almost stranger about this. "I live with muggles. They're the only family I've got, and they didn't... they don't..." Harry shook his head. "Magic is sort of avoided there. At all costs."

Gwen stood still, but she nodded slowly with down-turned eyes. Like she got it, like she _understood_. "Yea, I guess I can understand that."

Harry wondered if that was a sort of opening for him. "Do your parents not like magic then?"

Gwen shook her head. "Parents died. It's me and my little sister in a... sort of group home I guess. It's a place for muggles, but the caretaker is a squib, so she doesn't like magic very much."

"You have a little sister?" Harry asked, completely avoiding the first part of the sentence.

Gwen smiled a little at the corners of her mouth. "Yea, I'm actually the middle child. Older brothers out in the country somewhere probably being a nuisance to the world."

Harry smiled. "How old's your brother?"

"Sixteen. He's sort of home-schooled." Gwen's smile turned a little bitter.

Harry didn't know if he should comment, or not about that, but he had come this far to a complete stranger from a different country, he guessed he could take a risk about this. "You two aren't close?"

Gwen looked to Harry and shook her head cautiously. "No, no... we don't get along very well."

"Sorry."

Gwen shrugged. "It's something though right? Do you have any cousins?"

"One," Harry answered.

"And how's he?"

"A pig in a wig."

Gwen snorted back a laugh behind her hand and Harry grinned. "I guess you two aren't close either."

It was Harry's turn to shrug. "He doesn't like magic."

Gwen grinned and put her hands behind her back. She stared at Harry for a moment, before he grin slipped away and she looked pointedly away from him. "You know, I meant what I said earlier."

"Earlier?" Harry asked, thinking back. How far earlier?

"When I said that I hoped that we could be friends. I still do. Even through," Gwen waved her hands around to gesture at everything around her, "all of this. Even if we are supposed to be enemies in this competition. I hope we can... I don't know... be cool about it."

Harry's insides twisted painfully. It was an offer at friendship that seemed far nicer than Draco's when he had offered it, and she already knew more about him than others in his own House. But then again, she was right. They _were_ pitted against each other in this competition, and being friends could be...

Well, she didn't _look_ like a lying spy and a cheater, but anyone could be really. Just look at Wormtail.

"I don't know if that's such a good-" Harry started, regretting his words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

Gwen nodded though, looking as though she were accepting some sort of rejection, which Harry thought, is _exactly_ what he did. "No, yea I get it your probably right. I mean, I guess I just.. no yea, you're right. Okay. I guess I'll just.. I'll see-"

"No. Yes."

"No?"

"No."

"Oh."

"No! No... yes?"

"Yes."

"Yes..."

Gwen crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"Even though..."

Harry looked away from her and shrugged. "Until the tournaments over... we... shouldn't..."

Gwen nodded quickly like she had found an answer to long math problem. "We shouldn't talk about it at all."

"What?" Harry looked up quickly, that hadn't been the path he'd been following, but maybe her's was going for being a better idea.

"Yea. We should make a pact of some sort," Gwen nodded, almost to herself. "We don't talk anything that relates even closely to the tournament, and we can... be friends then."

"Friends?"

Gwen smiled. "Friends."

Harry nodded, a sort of warmth spreading under his skin with their agreement. "Okay."

Gwen took out her hand. "Shake on it?"

Harry held out his hand to hers and they shook hands, clasping each other with the others fingers. Gwen stepped closer to Harry and lifted up her pinky at him.

"Pinky Promise."

"Pinky?"

"You were raised by muggles, you should know what a Pinky Promise is."

"I do... I just.. okay."

Harry hooked his pinky against Gwen's and they shook on that as well.

Gwen laughed when they released each others fingers. "Well, now it's official. You're stuck with me. Merlin help you."

Harry couldn't help the smile that thinned his lips. "I'll see you at breakfast then?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Gwen grinned a little at him and turned towards the Entrance Hall door. "Night Harry."

"Goodnight Gwen," Harry said back as the Entrance Hall doors closed behind her.

Harry started to climb the marble staircase slowly, his thoughts going over what he'd just agreed to and if Ron and Hermione would believe that he'd already made a friend from one of the foreign schools.

Or if they'd believe him at all.

Would they believe him when he told them about not putting his name in the Goblet?

He climbed to the second floor and shook himself. Of course they would. They were his best friends.

Was anyone except Ron and Hermione going to believe him, or would they all think he'd put himself in the tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who'd had three years more magical education than he had- when he was now facing tasks that not only sounded dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people? He'd fantasized about it ... but it had been a joke, an idle sort of dream... he'd never really... _seriously_ consider entering.

But someone else had considered it. And had made sure he got in. But why? To give him a treat? To make a fool of himself?... Moody's voice came into his head and a shiver went down his back. To get him killed?

Was Moody being his usual paranoid self? Was someone only having a laugh about this? A practical joke? Did anyone really want him dead?

Well, Harry was able to answer that one at least. He knew Voldemort was after him. But Voldemort couldn't have gotten Harry's name into the Goblet. Could he have? He was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone... feeble...

Harry got a shock to find himself in front of the Fat Lady. He had been barely paying attention to where his feet were taking him. He looked up.

"Well well well..." said the Fat Lady. "Viola's just told me whats happened. Who's been chosen as the schools second champion, eh?"

"Baulderdash," said Harry glumly.

"Ah come now child, you have been given an hon-"

"Baulderdash," he said again a bit more forceful than before.

The Fat Lady swung forwards on her hinges to let Harry into the common room.

The blast of noise that met Harry's ears when the portrait open almost knocked him backwards. Next thing he knew, he was being wrenched inside the common room by a dozen hands and was standing in front of the whole Gryffindor house, all of which, were cheering, clapping and whistling at him.

"You should have told us you entered!" bellowed Fred, looking half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"How did you get in without a beard? Brilliant!" yelled George.

"I didn't!" said Harry. "I don't know how-"

But now Angelina was there with her arm around him. "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor!"

"You'll be able to pay Diggory back for that quidditch match Harry!" Katie Bell yelled.

"We've got food Harry, come and have some-"

"I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast-"

Nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry, that he hadn't put his name in the Goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate. They kept asking how he'd done it, and over and over again he would insist that he didn't do it. He didn't know how he'd gotten in.

But for all the notice that they took on his answers, he might as well as not have said anything at all.

"I'm tired!" he finally bellowed, after nearly half an hour. "No seriously George, I'm going to bed."

He managed to shake everyone else off of him, and he climbed up to his dormitory as fast as he could. To his great relief he found Ron lying on his bed in an otherwise empty room, still fully dressed. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him.

"Where've you been?" Harry asked.

"Oh hello," said Ron.

He was grinning, but it was an odd, sort of strained grin. "Congratulations."

"What d'you mean, congratulations?" Harry said staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling. It was more like a grimace.

"Well... no one else got across the age line. Not even Dean and Seamus and they had the twins help. What did you use? - the invisibility cloak?"

"The invisibility cloak wouldn't have been able to get me across that line," harry said slowly.

"Oh. Right," said Ron. "I thought you might have told me if it was the cloak... because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"

"Listen," said Harry. "I didn't put my name in the Goblet. Someone else must have done it."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?"

"I dunno," said Harry, "to kill me maybe?" He suddenly felt more than a little melodramatic.

Ron's eyebrows rose higher on his forehead. "It's okay, you know, you can tell _me_ the truth," he said. "If you don't want anyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? The Fat Lady's friend Viola said that Dumbledore let you compete. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And no end of the year tests for you either..."

"I didn't put my name into that Goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry.

"Yeah okay," said Ron, in the exact skeptical tone that Diggory had used. "Only this morning you said you'd have done it when no one would've seen you... i'm not stupid you know."

"You're doing a really fine impression of it," Harry snapped.

"Yeah?" Ron said, all trace of humor, forced or not, gone from his face. "You want to get to bed Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something."

He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.

* * *

**The problems get a little wieghtier. **

**UP NEXT: Wieghing wands, ugly buttons, and notes to Snuffles + some building relationships.**

**~Missmusicluver**


	5. Pensieve, Gandalf, and Wands

"Jealous?" Harry asked unbelieving. "Why would he be jealous of _me_?" He shook his head and glanced at the morning dew surrounding the lake with Hermione beside him. Avoiding breakfast had been a good start for the day as far as Harry was concerned and getting out of the castle to the lake was helping his already raw nerves from his staring and clapping classmates. "He wants to make a prat out of himself in front of the whole school, does he?"

"Look," Hermione said patiently, staring out at the Durmstrang boat across the lake, "It's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault."

Harry opened his mouth furiously to object but Hermione held out a hand to stop him with a gentle look.

"I know you don't ask for it... but you know, Ron- he's got all those brothers to compete with and you're his best friend- really famous- and he's always pushed away to one side whenever people see you... and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this was just one time too many."

"Hermione I didn't ask- I didn't-" Harry shook his head and placed his forehead in his hands. "You can tell Ron that he can swap places anytime he wants. He can have it all- people staring at you everywhere you go all of the time," he said bitterly.

A pack of older students from Magnavox ran in front of them with small bottles of water in their hands, heaving in deep breaths from their morning run. Harry looked up and watched them run around the bank of the shore before turning to Hermione again.

"I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "You can tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out."

"I'm not going to run after him to try and make him grow up!"Harry said loudly. "Maybe he'll change his mind and think differently when I go in and break my neck or-"

"That's not funny," Hermione said quietly. "That's not funny at all."

Harry looked down and wrapped his fingers around each other. "I know. Im... I'm sorry. I'm just angry."

"Harry, you know what you've got to do as soon as you get to the castle right? As soon as you can?" Hermione asked.

"Yea, give Ron a big kick up the-"

"No, _write to Sirius_."

"What?"

"You have to write to Sirius Harry! You have to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him informed on everything thats going on at Hogwarts."

"Oh come off it. He came back into the country just because my scar twinged. I'm not going to have Sirius risk his life to-" Harry started to say.

"Harry! Hi, how are- oh," someone said from behind the pair. Harry and Hermione turned around and Harry smiled without thinking.

"Gwen, er, uh, good morning," Harry said, watching as Gwen walked closer from the lakes beach.

* * *

Hermione's POV:

"Morning," the girl from yesterday, Gwen, smiled. Gwen looked over to Hermione and nodded at her. "Morning Hermione."

Hermione put on a fake smile and nodded back, glancing over at Harry from the corners of her eyes.

"Good morning. Have you had breakfast yet?" Hermione asked, dragging her mind away from the letter Harry was going to have to send Sirius whether he wanted to or not.

"Not yet. I thought i'd take a walk away from the train for a while. Everyone seems to want to either congratulate me or threaten me into winning," she grinned and shrugged a shoulder. "It's good to see I'm not the only one trying to get away from it all."

Hermione inwardly nodded. That made sense, just like Harry, she was most likely feeling stressed in such small compartments. A foreign school with new surroundings would be a good way to relax from the pressures of classmates and teachers.

Harry smiled and Hermione watched Harry relax into his seat a little more than he had before. That was... interesting.

"Threatening you?" Hermione asked turning her attention back to the American.

Gwen nodded and waved her hand is dismissal. "Oh you know, the platonic punch in the shoulder and 'you better win or i'm going to kill you in your sleep' kind of threats. Nothing to take seriously... I think."

Gwen stood in front of Harry and Hermione and waved a hand at the large trunk they were both sitting on. "Do you mind if I sit down as well?" Harry nodded and Hermione followed suit, observing.

Gwen sat down beside Hermione and leaned forwards into the pair. "So... speaking of seriousness, I heard you guys talking about Sirius Black?" She laughed casually, if not nervously.

Harry's response was automatic and Hermione could feel him tensing beside her before Gwen had the chance to finished his godfathers name. Hermione stepped in before Harry could say anything.

"So you've heard of him then since coming to Hogwarts?" she asked lightly.

Harry remained tense and silent beside her. Gwen glanced at Harry and Hermione watched her face as she took in Harry's reaction. Her reaction to his reaction was something she'd base her personality off of and what exactly she wanted from Harry. They both were in the competition, together and it could prove disastrous if someone from a foreign school had put Harry's name in.

Although that was most unlikely, Hermione said to herself in her mind, as what Gwen would have accomplished by putting Harry's name in?

Gwen nodded to Hermione's question. "Everyone was given a notification when we entered Europe with a picture of what he looked like. Apparently, he's some kind of ..." Gwen stared at Harry and Harry looked up at her at the same moment. "...escaped prisoner."

Hermione nodded. "From Azkaban."

Gwen looked away from Harry to Hermione. "And that is?"

"A wizarding prison," Hermione answered, glancing at Harry.

Gwen nodded and looked back and forth from the two of them. "And you've both met him." Hermione froze in her seat and Harry stilled to a practical statue beside her. Gwen nodded. "You both still do." Harry snapped his head up to hers and Hermione shook her head.

"No we don't. You're wrong. We've never-"

Gwen shook her head, but didn't turn away from Harry. "Don't lie. I have a younger sister. You are a bad liar compared to her." She leaned forwards to Harry cautiously. "You both knew him from the attack on Hogwarts last year. Still do. Possibly meet him from time to time... no, he doesn't come to see you.. but you remain in contact." She narrowed her eyes at Harry like she concentrating on reading a hard book or something in a different language.

Harry looked away from her out to the lake. "Stop it," he said.

Gwen looked surprised. "So it's true then? You do know him?"

"You already know that."

"I was reading your face. I was guessing. I didn't actually... but he's a prisoner!"

"He's a good man!" Harry yelled standing up.

Gwen stared in shock for a second before she stood up and narrowed her eyes at him. "A good man," she echoed. "You don't just know him, you _know_ him." It sounded like an accusation.

Hermione stood up with the other two, the buzz of panic at the edges of her stomach. This was too fast and too forward for her to process. A guess! Were they that easy to read? She needed to see Dumbledore. She needed to contact Sirius and warn him far far away from here. Someone else knew. She needed to... She needed to...

Without thinking, she raised her wand at Gwen.

Gwen froze and Harry 's eyes widened at Hermione like it was the first time he was seeing her. "He was an innocent man," Hermione explained a little desperately, but with a leveled hand.

Gwen had to understand why she couldn't say anything. Had to understand how desperately dangerous it was that this stranger knew as much as she already did. How Sirius's life hung in the threads everyday by people who kept his secret. "We don't have any proof, but someone set him up. He was wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years without a trial. Harry was- is right, he's a ...good man."

Gwen raised her hands in surrender to Hermione, her eyes suddenly hard and calculating at both Hogwarts students. "I don't know what youre talking about. All I know is that the Ministry of your Magic is looking for him. He escaped prison."

"He wasn't supposed to be there!" Harry said.

Gwen glanced at Hermione before staring at Harry. "He was accused of murder against twelve muggles. You're telling me he didn't do it and your ministry has no idea?"

"He didn't do it! Peter framed him!" Harry exclaimed back adamantly, while Hermione divulged at the same time, "Like I said, we have no proof. They wouldn't believe us."

Gwen eyed Hermione's upraised wand. Harry set his hand on Hermione's arm and lowered the wand to her side. Gwen put down her hands and swallowed, her eyes studying both teenagers beside her. "Mary read newspaper articles about Sirius on the train ride here after ministry leaders told our class about him. Peter was a name that came up a couple of times... Peter... Peter Pettigrew, I think his name was... is that who you're talking about?"

Hermione looked to Harry for direction and Harry nodded in confirmation.

"He died," Gwen stated unimpressed. "All that was left was a finger."

"He was an unregistered animagus. He framed Sirius before he blew up a gas line that killed all those muggles. He was living in secret for years," Harry alleged.

Gwen crumpled her eyebrows together. "Unregistered animagus...? How would he have lived that long without someone-"

"He lived as my best friends pet rat for twelve years," Harry answered.

Gwen's eyebrows rose upwards. "Rats only live for like three years max. You're honestly going to tell me that no one thought something was off?" she asked. "That is, if this isn't all some big lie and you're telling the truth and nothing but the truth so help you Merlin."

"I swear. It's the truth. I know we've only just met, but this is important, I wouldn't lie about this. This is Sirius, he's-"

Gwen didn't miss Harry's abrupt cut off like Hermione had hoped. "Sirius. Sirius Black. You talk about him like you know him personally. Like he means something to you... How close are you to him?"

Harry rotated his jaw and ran his hand through his hair. "He's... Sirius Black is my Godfather."

Gwen's jaw went a little slack and she gaped between Hermione and Harry with wide eyes. "He's ... you... okay. So, godfather. That's a thing you have," Gwen said, sitting back down on the log. "Godfather."

Hermione watched the American lick her lips and shake her head, still wrapping her head around what Harry had said. Godfather and innocent was really a lot to take in about a murdering lunatic who escaped from prison that's on a foreigners most wanted list Hermione realized. More shocking really then when she had realized it herself. There had been clues and ages to uncover it all when Gwen was just having it dumped on her.

"Look I know it might seem a little..." Hermione trailed off.

Gwen looked up with wide eyes. "Crazy? Unrealistic? Insane? Made up? Pick and choose, they all come pretty close to what's going through my mind."

"It's true," Harry proclaimed with a set jaw.

"Uh huh, okay crazy," Gwen said backing up with raised hands.

"It is!" Hermione said stepping forwards.

Gwen backed up even farther, looking like she was ready to run. Hermione's wand came up and Gwen acted faster than Hermione could watch.

Gwen's wand suddenly was in her hand and she slashed the thin piece of wood downwards in an arcing motion. "Expelliarmus!" she yelled.

With a flash of light, Hermione's wand flew upwards out of her hand and Gwen caught it mid air. She raised it above her head and turned her wand to Harry. "Wouldn't want you to obliviate me or anything," she said, looking more serious than Hermione had ever seen her.

"I wasn't," Harry said solumley. "I've had bad experiences with that spell. I wouldn't want to put it on anyone else. I've seen what happens when you misuse it."

Gwen stared and Harry rose his hands in surrender to her. Gwen kept her wand up, but glanced at Hermione and Harry a couple times with concentrated eyes. "You're telling the truth."

"Every word I've said is the truth," Harry said. He nodded to Hermione. "We both have."

Gwen looked between them furiously. "You swear?"

"Do you want it written out?" Harry asked half sarcastic.

"I wanna make sure i'm not consorting with criminals," Gwen said keeping her gaze hard Harry. "It would be a pain if I had to turn in my newest friend as being an accomplice to a felony."

"I swear. Hermione swears. Every word's the truth. Pettigrew was the traitor and Sirius was innocent the entire time," Harry said earnestly trying to let Gwen see his truth.

Gwen watched him with the seconds that passed by after his words and slowly, she dropped her wand to her side. "Are you willing to swear to your words being the truth?"

"I am," Harry said.

Gwen looked to Hermione and the bushy haired girl nodded in agreement.

Gwen sighed out and rolled back her shoulders. "Okay, come on." Gwen turned on her heel and walked back down the lake's shore back to the train.

"Wait, where are we going? What are you doing?" Harry called after her.

"Follow me. I'm going to make sure you're telling the truth," Gwen shouted back to him. She started running and Harry immediately started after her. Hermione watched one of her best friends following after Gwen, and she followed after him with a mix of reluctance and caution. What would Gwen do if she thought they were lying?

What would happen to Sirius?

* * *

Gwen led both Harry and Hermione to her schools train. She looked both ways constantly for anyone following her and as she led them forwards. Soon they were passing various doors and windows until they were at the head of the train. Gwen pulled out her wand and whispered something to the door. Purple sparks flew from the tip of her wand and the train door opened forwards and up into the top of the train.

Gwen stepped forwards and motioned for the other two to follow her. "This is Principal Varginna's staff room. She's going to spend the day with Dumbledore today, so we should be okay in here."

Harry stepped inside and stared around. It was a large room, larger even than the gryffindor common room with a spiral staircase that lead up to a small library above his head looking down. The walls were plastered with moving pictures of older headmasters and headmistresses as well as inspiring educational slogans. 'Keep the wind as well as your wand frosty my friend' was a particularly big slogan on the wall opposite Harry with the face of a middle aged witch with bright blonde hair and huge blue eyes.

"What are we-" Harry started to ask.

"Principal Varginna has a pensive," Gwen said, closing the door behind them all. "You say you don't have evidence, but if what you say is true, then all the evidence is already stored in your head."

"What?" Harry asked. Hermione could feel a spur of excitement and hope digging itself inside her heart with him.

"I learned about over the summer. The pensieve, it's a type of-: Gwen started.

"You can see memories from it, of course!" Hermione said. "Why didn't I think of that earlier?"

Gwen smiled uneasily at Hermione. "Well, I did attack you."

Hermione smiled hesitantly back at the young witch, cautious as where they both stood with each other. "If my memory is correct, I raised my wand first."

Gwen stuck out her hand for Hermione. "Listen, no hard feelings? I just, well, I was a bit overwhelmed at all of it."

Hermione grasped the hand out in front of her and nodded. "It's okay. I don't know if i would have believed it myself if I hadn't have been there."

"So you believe us?" Harry asked standing a bit closer to Gwen.

"Well, I believe that you believe it's the truth. You don't seem to look like you're lying."

"It's all the truth," Harry repeated.

Gwen nodded. "Right. Come on. This way."

Gwen walked up to to the inspirational slogan poster on the wall with the witch with blonde hair and smiled. "Good morning Glenda," she said. "I need to use the pensieve again if you don't mind."

"Another nightmare dear?" the poster asked her, recognizing her with a small frown.

"Kind of. It's a long story," Gwen smiled.

"Isn't it always. Alright, come on in."

The poster caved inwards in the middle and a wooden door appeared at the center of the poster. "Ruby Red Slippers," Gwen told the door. The wooden door swung inwards and revealed a small lighted room on the other side.

Gwen stepped in first, then Harry, and lastly Hermione. "Close the door behind you, will you?" Gwen asked Hermione.

"Sure," Hermione said, closing the door behind her and stepping up behind Harry.

Gwen raised her wand above her head again and lowered it to a large stone basin that sat in front of them all with a murmured spell. "This," Gwen said starring down, "is a pensieve." She turned to Harry. "I want you to think of everything that happened that night. Don't leave anything out. Start from where you think is a good place for me to jump in, and then end when everything is done and over with."

"Everything?" Harry asked glancing at Hermione.

"Everything," Gwen nodded.

"Alright, but so you're not, uh, confused... the time turner we had was completely legal at that time," Harry said.

"Y-you had a time turner?" Gwen asked, looking surprised.

"Hermione was taking too many classes for just one normal school day."

Gwen peered at Hermione. "Really? Well that's, huh. Alright. Uh, put your wand up to your head and think about if from the beginning."

"Start from where Scabbers bit Ron," Hermione whispered to Harry.

"Scabbers?" Gwen echoed, listening in closely.

"Ron's pet rat that we told you about," Harry explained.

"Oh, alright, start from there. Close your eyes, think about everything that happened, and slowly pull your wand away from your temple."

Harry followed her instructions carefully and when he opened his eyes, Hermione was surprised to see a glowing, floating, blue strand of ... well to be honest, it looked like a strand of twine hanging in the air.

"That's-" Hermione said.

Gwen nodded. "His memory of it." She stepped closer to the pensive and motioned for Harry to follow her. "Use your wand and push it into the pensieve," she ordered. Harry followed her instructions and the twine disapparated into the water, leaving behind a reflection of the darkness and a full moon covered behind clouds.

"I don't think you know how to moderate your memories, so everything should be as it was that night," Gwen said almost to herself.

"You can change memories?" Hermione asked, suddenly intrigued.

"You can block it out, or cover it up, but you can't change it," Gwen said starring down at the water. "Alright, follow me." She leaned over the stone basin and the water touched the tip of her nose. Harry followed suit and became very still. Hermione looked at the closed door behind her for a moment before she too, leaned forwards and immersed herself into that painful day.

* * *

Harry's POV:

Hours later, three heads pulled themselves away from the pensieve and onto the ground, breathing heavily. "That was... I didn't... I don't...I didn't know... Poor Sirius." Gwen breathed.

Harry looked across at her and smiled with a heaving chest. "Do you believe me now?" he asked.

She smiled and nodded looking at Harry, slightly shaking her head. "You... you're something else. You know that?"

Harry glanced at Hermione. "That- I- thank you?"

Gwen smiled wider and leaned back against the rooms walls with a deep breath. "All those dementors," she shook her head. "Your godfather must be really proud of you."

Harry felt the weight against him sink to his toes and evaporate. "So you're okay with it all?" he asked.

"What? With Sirius? Yea, I mean, he's innocent, isn't he? So why would I have a problem with it?" Gwen answered.

"It's just-" Hermione shook her head. "You know now that you can't say anything. No one knows of Sirius's secret except Harry, Ron, Professor Lupin, Dumbledore, Professor Snape, me and now you."

"I'm not going to say anything," Gwen said, looking a little surprised. "No, why would I? To put him back in jail? That would be horrible. Just the thought of him going back to those... those... things. It's just-" Gwen trailed off and shivered to herself like she was thinking back on the memory of the dementors. "That would be horrible."

Harry let out a deep breath. "You don't know how good it is to hear you say that. I thought you'd turn him in."

Gwen looked up at him and straight in the eye. "I would have Harry. Don't think i wouldn't have. If I didn't know that he was innocent, i would have told my Principal or your Headmaster. Most likely someone from your Ministry."

Harry could feel the blood leaving his face and keeping him pale. "You would have?"

Gwen nodded. "It would have been the right thing to do if he truly was a murderer. But, as i've just witnessed, he's not, so that's that."

"And now?" Hermione asked.

"And now I think we should all get to class. We've probably already been gone long enough."

"How long... Oh no, we've probably missed classes!" Hermione said, rushing to her feet.

"I'll have to send Sirius a message," Harry said getting up beside Hermione.

"A message?" Gwen asked getting up as well.

"By owl. He says he's coming back down for me... he's..." Harry trailed off, unsure at how to best put his godfathers affections for him.

"He's worried about you?" Gwen prompted.

"He wants to be kept informed about what's going on in Hogwarts."

'Well, i'd say getting picked as the fifth champion in a dangerous game is one way to keep him informed."

Harry shook his head. "If I tell him though, he'll definitely come then. Merlin, he might march right into the Great Hall to check on me."

"Sounds protective."

"Sounds mental."

"It's better you tell him than the newspapers," Gwen shrugged.

Harry's eyes widened. "The.. the _what_?"

Gwen opened the door and walked back into the main room of Head Mistress Varginna's compartment. "Newspapers," she stated steadily. "You didn't think that four foreign schools working together under one competition would not attract attention? Not to mention it's known for its death toll in the games? Death and foreigners? Makes great entertainment. Everybody who's anybody will know about it, as i'm sure someone's already told you."

Malfoy's face lept to Harry's mind, but he pushed it away. "Hermione?" he asked.

"It's true," she nodded. "It's best you tell him. He'd want to hear it from you first. And- oh! I've got parchment with me! Let me just... hold on-" Hermione reached into her robes and pulled out a sheaf of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink to Harry.

Harry looked down. "Now? Right now?"

"No better time," Gwen smiled. "Go on."

Harry sighed and inked his quill.

_Dear Sirius,_

_You told me to keep you posted on what's happening at Hogwarts, so here goes- i don't know if you've heard, but the triwizard tournament is happening this year and on Saturday night i got picked as the fifth champion. I don't know who put my name in the Goblet of fire, because I didn't. The other Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff. _

_And Gwen, the champion of Magnavox, found out about you on accident. I told her about what had happened and I showed her my memories from the night Pettigrew got away by pensieve. She believes us and has promised not to tell a soul. She can be trusted Sirius. I don't know her well, but it's a feeling. Hermione's looking at me like she thinks so too. _

_Hope you're okay, and Buckbeak._

_-Harry_

"Finished," he told Hermione and Gwen.

"Good. Here, I can have my owl send it for you," Gwen said opening the compartment door to the outside. She pulled out her wand and flicked it upwards in the afternoon air. "Noctuam vocationem," she called out. A flash of orange and reddish light escaped her wand and flew out towards the clouds.

Hermione crinkled her eyebrows together. "I've never heard of that one before, it's not in the curriculum is it?"

"No," Gwen smiled. "I learned it from a friend back in California who had a way with animals. He made it up and one day it just worked."

"What's it do?" Hermione asked, looking a cross of intrigued and cautious.

"It's called the Owl Hoot Charm and it calls your owl to you. Theres some other ones for horses, dogs, even goldfish, but the animal has to be connected to you in some way for it to work."

"Could save anyone a long trip to the Owlery," Harry grinned.

"It could call _any_ animal?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Gwen said thoughtfully. "There's some discussion on whether it really works the same for magical creatures, or not, but essentially, yes, it should work on almost any animal. Of course,the charm's name changes from animal to animal as well though."

Hermione nodded, fully in depth with new knowledge. "Right."

Gwen smiled and looked out the compartment door. "Ah, there he is."

Harry turned his head to get a better view outside, and sure enough, a large grey owl flew straight into the compartment and landed on Gwen's shoulder. Gwen smiled to the enormous grey bird and patted its head affectionately. "Harry and Hermione, I'd like you to meet Gandalf the Grey."

Hermione choked on whatever air she was inhaling at the time and burst in a choked laugh. "G-Gandalf? From-"

Gwen smiled. "The very same one. It's nice to know_ some _people can appreciate a good name."

Hermione laughed and leaned back against the study wall, looking more relaxed than Harry had seen her yet today. "Well I'm muggleborn. Lord of the Rings was one of the many movies my parents tried watching to understand more about the magical world."

Gwen laughed. "Muggleborn huh? Yea, it's hard to get the families to understand that magic is actually a _thing_ and not some half baked parlor tricks sent from Satan."

Hermione giggled. "Gandalf the Grey seems to fit the name well," she said looking at the proudly puffed out chest of the owl on Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen smiled. "Yes, he does love to show off for new people." Gwen picked up the folded letter and held it out to Gandalf. "Take it to a Mister Sirius Black. Might be in the shape of a black dog. You know what to do."

Gandalf accepted the letter in his beak and flew off into the afternoon air. Gwen smiled and then turned back to Hermione and Harry. "Anyways, lunch! It feels about lunch time right now."

Harry nearly rolled his eyes and said,"You're as bad as Ron," before he suddenly realized that he and his best friend weren't talking anymore. And just as suddenly, he didn't feel quite so hungry.

* * *

The next couple of days were the worst in Harry's life.

The closest he had ever come to feeling like this was had been during those months in his second year when the entire school had suspected him of attacking his fellow students. But Ron had been on his side then. He thought he could have coped with the rest of the schools behavior if he could just have Ron back as a friend, but he wasn't going to try and persuade Ron to become his friend if he was being thick headed about it all. Never the less, Harry had never felt so lonely.

The Hufflepuffs hated him, all of them, because they figured Harry was trying to take away glory from their house. The Slytherins, well they just didn't get along with him, but even the Ravenclaws were standoffish whenever Harry walked into the same room, or even in the same library section.

Meanwhile, there had been no reply from Sirius, Trelawney was predicting his death in every class and he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick's class that he was given extra homework.

"It's really not that difficult Harry,"Hermione had told them afterwards, heading to double Potions. "You just weren't concentrating properly-"

"Wonder why that is," Harry said Darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a group of giggling girls. "Still, never mind eh? There's always Snape to look forwards to..."

When he and Hermione arrived at the Dungeons after lunch, he found each and every Slytherin waiting outside wearing big buttons on the outside of their robes. They had luminous red letters that said: _SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY - THE __REAL__ HOGWARTS CHAMPION!_

"Like them Potter?" Malfoy said loudly as he and Hermione approached. "And that isn't all they do- look!" He pressed his badge into his chest and the message vanished, replaced by another one that said in bright green letters: _POTTER STINKS_

Every Slytherin howled with laughter and pressed their badges to their chests too until the message _POTTER STINKS_ was shining brightly all around Harry. He felt the heat rise in his face and neck.

"Oh _very_ funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, "real _witty_."

"Want one Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand now. I've only just watched it, you see; don't want a mudblood sliming it up."

THe anger that Harry had been suppressing for days and days broke through like a damn and reached for his wand before he could think in the next moment. Students scrambled away, back down the corridor.

"Harry don't!" Hermione warned.

"No, go on then Potter," Malfoy said quietly. "Moody's not here to-"

"Oh shut up you little asshat," came a voice behind Malfoy.

Heads turned and in the mouth of the corridor stood Gwen with her Magnavox robes on, holding a small stack of dusty books in her hand.

"Who are _you_?" Malfoy sneered. "This isn't your place foreigner."

"Cut the crap blondy. I've seriously had enough of your mouth to last a lifetime several times over and I've only just met you," Gwen said stepping purposely down the row with her hair waving out behind her like a veil.

Malfoy blanched and looked to Crabbe and Goyle. "You don't know who you're talking to. My father-"

"Is a Malfoy. Yea, that's not interesting in the least to me. You're still an asshat."

"I'm a _wha_-"

"And pathetic. I don't take kindly to little rich kids bad mouthing my friends good names and wills."

"Now look here, you're nothing but a-"

"And you've drawn your wand against my other friend for protecting her against your slander. Honestly, when looking for the better man, not even wizard, but the basis of just being a _man_, Harry has you out sourced by every manner your prissy mother ever tried teaching you."

There was silence throughout the hall and Pany's eyes looked too wide for her face to fit. "You little half blood! Saying such disrespectful things to the heir of the Malfoy family. You should-" she started yelling at Gwen, stepping forwards.

Gwen smiled with pity at the teenager girl. "Letting your girl toy protect you Malfoy? Another point to Potter I think."

Seamus from behind Harry with Ron and Dean against the wall, coughed back a laugh.

"First of all," Gwen said stepping forwards, "I am not a half blood. My name is Gwen Fords, middle child of Nicole and Marciwell Fords of the Fords House which dates back farther than even the Parkinson's I'm afraid." Gwen smiled easily at Pansy. "Secondly, 'Respect is earned. Never given'. Thirdly, this has nothing to do with the Parkinson's or your opinions so shut up and step back before I roast that ugly head of your alive. Understood?"

Gwen smiled and Pansy took a step back towards her friends who had their eyebrows up and their mouths opened in shock. Gwen turned to Draco. "Draco Malfoy. To be honest," Gwen looked him up and down slowly, like she was cataloging him, "I expected more of you." She pulled back her shoulders and walked past them all like they didn't exist. "See you at dinner Harry and Hermione," she called back as she entered Snape's classroom and dropped off the books.

She nodded once to both of them as she turned back down the corridor and didn't say another word until she was gone and walking away silently from the staring students after her.

"Who the bloody hell was that?" Dean asked, looking with wide eyes at Harry.

"The Magnavox champion," Neville said looking after the girl. "Didn't know you knew her so well though Harry."

Harry didn't know what to do or say, so he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't, but... we're friends."

"You're only friend besides the mudblood and the blood traitor," Pansy sneered tipping her head heavily at Ron in the background. "Although, that's right, the blood traitor isn't talking to you anymore is he? Trouble in paradise then Potter? Or is it that he's decided to walk away from his family of misfits and fakes to become a _true_ pure blood?"

"You make me sick," Neville said, his face twisted in a grimace.

"No one was talking to _you_ Longbottom," a friend of Pansy said coming up beside her. "No one in their right minds would want _you_ on their side. Barely a wizard. More likely a squib. Even muggles would want to put you down."

"Shut up," Ron said viciously coming up beside Neville. "He's more a wizard than either of you will ever dream of being."

Malfoy laughed. "Longbottom? Now there's a laugh. Maybe we should buttons of that too, what do you think Potter? Something catchy, like Loser Longbottom."

"That's not funny," Harry said darkly.

"No? I thought it was good. Or maybe we could do something for Ron. Make him feel better about himself and his starving family. Repulsive Ronald? The Worthless Weasley's?" Draco said with a twisted smile.

"Stop it," Harry ordered quietly.

"Needy Weasy's?" Pansy smiled and laughed along.

"Don't forget the mudblood," Crabbe smiled darkly.

"Ah yes. Who _could_ forget the know it all Mudblood Granger?" Draco sneered.

"Stop it," Harry ordered again, his voice lower and his hands in fists at his sides.

"Bit lengthy," Pansy smirked.

"Abominable Granger?"

"The irritating-" Goyle stepped in. Other slytherins laughed and more words poured from the rest of the others, feeding off the energy around them.

"-hated-"

"-repulsive-"

"-despised-"

"Obnoxious Granger?" Draco finished with a smile.

Harry burned with anger and his body was strung up tighter than he had ever experienced before. For a split second, Harry and Draco looked into each others eyes, then, at the exact same time, they both raised their wands and acted.

"Furnunculus!" Harry yelled.

"Densaugeo!" screamed Malfoy.

Surprisingly Neville raised his wand too at the same time towards Malfoy. "Petrificus totalus!"

Jet's of light from all wands hit each other in mid air and ricocheted off at angles. Harry's spell hit Goyle in the face, Malfoy's hit Hermione, and Neville's hit Crabbe. Goyle bellowed and put his hands up to his nose, were great ugly boils were springing up, Crabbe fell backwards to the ground, and Hermione, whimpering in panic, was clutching her mouth.

"Hermione!" Ron hurried forward. Harry turned and saw Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice.

Snape had arrived. He pointed one gloved finger at Malfoy and said "explain," while the rest of the Slytherin students clamored to put in their say.

"Longbottom and Potter attacked me, sir-"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"-and they hit Goyle and Crabbe- look-"

Snape glanced downwards at Goyle whose face was starting to look like something that would have been in a book on poisonous fungi and Crabbe who was still on the floor motionless.

"Help and Mr. Crabbe to the hospital wing ," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "_Look_!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth, which were now growing past her collarbone, and Pansy Parkinson and her friends doubled over in giggles behind Snape pointing at her.

Snape looked calmly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper, her eyes filling with tears, before she turned on her heel and ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

Harry and Ron started shouting, their voices echoing off of each other. The words blurred and burned together in the stone walls, but Snape understood the gist of what he was being called.

"Let's see," Snape said in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention for Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom for fighting in the halls. Now get inside of it'll be a weeks worth of detentions."

Harry's ears were ringing. The injustice that was happening, that _kept _happening was grinding away at Harry's nerves. Harry sat alone at his workbench staring at Snape, picturing horrific things happening to him as he started his lesson.

"Antidotes!" barked Snape, his black eyes glittering unpleasantly around at them. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."

Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. He was going to poison _him_. Harry imagined picking up the cauldrons and pouring it down on Snape's greasy head...

A knock on the dungeon room door burst in on Harry's thoughts.

It was Colin Creevey, beaming at Harry, and walking up towards Snape at the front of the room. "Yes?" asked Snape curtly.

"Please Sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face. "Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He'll come when his class is finished."

Colin went pink. "Sir, Mr Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have to go, i think they want to get photographs..."

Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin from stop saying those last few words. He glanced at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling.

"_Very well_. Potter, take your bags and get out of my sight!"

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up and headed for the door as quickly as possible. "It's amazing isn't Harry?" asked Colin, starting to speak as soon as they had stepped out of the dungeon. "Isn't it though? You being champion?"

"Yeah, really amazing," Harry said heavily, starting off towards the entrance hall. "What do they want photos for Colin?"

"The Daily Prophet I think!"

"Great," said Harry dully. "More publicity."

"Good luck!" Colin said to him when he reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door and entered.

He was in a small classroom with most of the desks pushed away to the sides with all of the other champions already there and Mr. Bagman talking to a woman he had never met before wearing magenta robes.

Bagman suddenly spotted him and bounded forwards. "Ah, there he is! Champion number five! In you come Harry, in you come... nothing to worry about, just wand weighing. The rest of the judges will be here in a moment- "

"Wand weighing?" asked Harry nervously.

"They have to make sure our wands are working. No problems or anything like that," Gwen said coming up beside Bagman to Harry.

"Yes, exactly Miss..."

"Fords, Gwen Fords," Gwen smiled automatically.

"Ah, yes of course,right." Bagman turned around to the magenta dressed woman who was eyeing Harry with fever. "This is Rita Skeeter. She's doing a small piece on the Triwizard Tournament for the Daily Prophet..."

"Maybe not _that_ small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry. "I wonder if i could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she asked. "One of the youngest champions, you know... to add a bit of color?"

Gwen snorted under her breath and Harry glanced at her. So did Rita Skeeter.

"Er-" Harry said.

"Be careful," Gwen whispered in his ear quickly.

"Lovely," Rita Skeeter said at the same time. In the next second, her scarlet taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door away from Bagman and Gwen.

"We don't want to be in there with all that noise," she said. "Let's see... ah, yes. this is nice and cozy.

Harry stared at her. "This is a broom cupboard."

She smiled like a cat stared at a mouse. "So, Harry, you don't mind if I use a Quick-Quotes Quill? it leaves me free to talk to you normally..."

"A what?" asked Harry.

Rita smiled wider. She reached into her crocodile skinned bag and drew out a long green quill and a roll of parchment that she stretched out in front of her. She put the point of the quill in her mouth for a moment before she placed it on the parchment, balancing by itself.

"Lovely," Rita said, smiling yet again. She turned her eyes to Harry and leaned forwards. "So, Harry... what made you decide to enter the tournament?"

"Er... I..." said Harry, but he was distracted by the quill. Even though he wasn't speaking, it was dashing across the parchment without stop and in it's wake he could make out a fresh sentence: _An ugly scar, souvenir of a tragic past, disfigures the otherwise charming face of Harry Potter, whose eyes-_"

"Ignore the quill Harry," Rita ordered firmly. Reluctantly, Harry looked up at her instead. "Now, why did you decide to enter the tournament Harry?"

"I didn't," answered Harry. "I don't know how my name got into the Goblet of Fire. I didn't put it in there."

Harry didn't think she believed him because she raised one heavily penciled eyebrow at him. "Come now Harry, theres no need of being scared about getting in trouble. We all know you shouldn't really have entered at all. But don't worry about that, our readers love a rebel."

"But I didn't enter," Harry repeated. "I don't know who-"

"How do you feel about the tasks ahead?" she interrupted him. "Excited? Nervous?"

"I haven't really thought... yeah, nervous, I suppose," said Harry. His insides squirmed uncomfortably as he spoke.

"Are you close to any of the champions?" she asked.

"I- what? No, not entirely. We all try to get along," Harry said immediately.

Rita's eyes flashed and she leaned forwards closer. "How about you and what's that boys name... Cedric? Two champions in the same school. Must be tense?"

"We... it's all rather difficult at this time I guess. I have my friends though so..." Harry said.

"Ah yes, your friends, like Miss Fords? She's the Champion from the states, yes?"

"Uh, yes, yes she is. She's great. Very nice."

Rita's eyes gleamed behind her powder blue cat eye glasses and she smiled down wickedly at the quill and the paper between them. Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Champions have died in the past, haven't they?" asked Rita briskly. "Have you thought about that at all?"

"Well, they say it's going to be a lot safer this year," said Harry.

The quill skated across the paper, barely stopping. "Of course, you've looked death in the face before, haven't you?" said Rita, watching him closely. "How would you say that has affected you?"

"Er," said Harry.

"Can you remember your parents at all?" Rita asked quickly.

"No," said Harry.

"How do you think they'd feel if they knew you were competing in the Triwizard Tournament? Proud? Worried? Angry?"

Harry was starting to feel really annoyed now. How on earth was he supposed to know how his parents would feel if they were alive? He didn't _know_ his parents. He never got the chance. What kind of question was that? He could feel Rita watching him closely. Frowning, he avoided her gaze and looked down at the words the quill had just written:

_Tears fill those startling green eyes as our conversation turns to the parents he can barely remember._

"I have NOT got tears in my eyes," Harry said loudly.

Before Rita could say anything, the door of the broom cupboard was pulled open. Harry looked around, blinking in the bright light. Dumbledore looked down at the both of them.

"Dumbledore!" cried Rita with a smile. Harry noticed her quill and parchment were now gone and she was quickly closing the clasp of her purse securely. "How are you?" she asked standing up. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizard's Conference?"

"Enchantingly nasty," replied Dumbledore. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat."

Rita didn't look remotely abashed.

"The Weighing of Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard," Dumbledore said, gesturing for Harry to walk out.

Harry nodded and got up quickly. Harry hurried back into the other room with Dumbledore a meer step behind him the entire way. Harry sat in the first open chair he saw which was in the middle of Cedric and Gwen and looked to the front of the room. Gwen nodded to him as he sat down and Cedric glanced over at him before he focused back up front.

Dumbledore stood in front of assembled teachers that included Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor Varginna, Mr. Crouch, and Ludo Bagman. Rita settled herself in the corner, looking over the room behind her cat eye glasses with her quick quill and parchment beside her seat writing furiously.

"May I introduce Mr. Ollivander?" said Dumbledore, taking his place among the teachers. "He will be checking the wands to ensure they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry glanced around the room and was surprised to see the wispy haired man standing at the back of the room with his withered hands over his chest.

"Youngest lady first I would say, could we have you Miss Fords first please?" asked Mr Ollivander. Harry watched Gwen hand over her wand to the man and him twirl the piece of wood between his hands. He held it up and the flames in the torches in the room

"Yes," he whispered into the air. "Ten and a half inches long I see... strong... unyielding...Yew wood I see... with a dragon heartstring core. "

Gwen smiled. "Yes Sir. From the first dragon I ever met."

Ollivander raised one white eyebrow at her over his glasses. "Met a dragon have you? Bonded with him or her perhaps then?"

Gwen clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. "It thought me it's hatchling at first really. It was terrifying."

Ollivander looked down at her wand. "Promising then, Miss. Fords. That is quite promising."

Harry almost felt a sense of deja voo at the man's tone.

"However," Ollivander continued on. "I don't seem to have the pleasure of knowing who made this particular wand." He looked back up at Gwen questioningly.

Gwen's smile faded at the edges. "My father. Marciwell Fords. Second wand he ever made after finishing his apprenticeship to Wandlore."

Ollivander nodded. "More sentiment."

Gwen frowned. "What?"

Ollivander smiled a half smile and lifted the wand upwards and circled it above his head once like a lasso. The torch fires rose in the room and the fireplace burst to life from behind Ollivander. Ollivander pulled the wand close to his face, apparently searching for bumps or scratches on the surface before he muttered a spell and a shower of yellow and pink sparks flew from the end of the wand.

"In perfect order I would say. Quite the wand Miss. Fords. Quite the wand." He gave Gwen back her wand and turned to Fleur.

Gwen stared down at her wand before sitting down next to Harry. Harry glanced at the white wood in the other teenagers fingers and he lightly bumped his shoulder against hers. "Hermione would have killed to know how the fire did that without a spell."

Gwen looked up from her wand and whatever emotion was going through her vanished as she met Harry's eyes. "Yea?" she asked. "So would I. That's never happened before."

"Never?"

"Never."

"Did accidental magic once on my ears. Did some other small mistakes before I got my wand... but never like that. That was..."

"Something else?" Harry tried.

Gwen nodded. "Something else entirely."

"Maybe it's because Ollivander was holding it. He _is _one of the best wand makers in Britain. Maybe it recognized him."

Gwen nodded. "Maybe."

Harry looked back to Ollivander and Fleur and watched as sparks flew out of the older girls wand in the old man's hands. After Fleur, Cedric got his wand checked and then Victor. Harry was the last to go forwards, and like last time, Harry felt uneasy with the older man's gaze set straight upon him.

"Mister Potter," Ollivander nodded. "Ah yes... yes. Yes. Yes. How well I remember."

Harry could remember his first time meeting Ollivander to, but that didn't mean he wanted to talk about it. He had a feeling Rita's quick quill would most likely catch fire if she found about what had happened and what was said that day.

Mr. Ollivander spent much more time examining Harry's wand than the others. Eventually however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

Dumbledore stood up when Harry received his wand. "Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up with the rest of the teachers. "you may all go down to-"

"Photos Dumbledore! Photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think Rita?"

"Yes. Excellent ideas," she smiled, her eyes on Harry again. "Then perhaps some individual shots?"

* * *

Gwen's POV:

Photos took forever. Madame Maxime was too big to get in the shot, Fleur somehow always managed to get right in front of Gwen before the shot was taken and Victor wouldn't stop grimacing every time the photo lights went off.

Gwen thought he'd have been used to it by now considering he was a famous quidditch player.

By the end of it all, Gwen was tired and hungry. She hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch so far (apparently champions need to study twice as hard and should not have time for going to the lake, as said by her class president) and her sleep had been cut short by everyone on the train individually congratulating or terrorizing her for being chosen.

"Thank Merlin," Gwen whispered when Dumbledore said they could all leave. Gwen liked Dumbledore a lot. He reminded her of the pictures of Merlin in her History books at home, but the man needed to know when to let a girl eat.

Harry was standing beside her and grinned at what she said. Gwen couldn't really help it if she grinned back in response. It was only the nice thing to do, no matter _what_ Mary said.

"I didn't think it would last this long," Harry admitted as they walked out side by side.

Gwen pushed her hair behind her shoulders and rolled her neck. "I know right? One more friggin picture... and if Fleur had flipped her hair at me _one more time_... my friend, the tournament would have been the least of her issues."

Harry smiled again, looking a little more relaxed than she had seen since this morning at the lake. "So eager to fight already?" he asked with a grin.

"Not fight really... just... more along the line of duct taping her hair to her skull. That would have been a nice change."

* * *

Harry POV:

Harry laughed and they entered dinner halfway through. Gwen smiled and waved to her friends at the end of the Gryffindor table and Harry searched for Hermione. Frowning, he saw she wasn't there.

"She's most likely still in the nurse's office," Gwen said catching his eye.

Harry nearly jumped in surprise. "She.. oh. Yea she probably still is."

Gwen put her hands on her hips. "Which is completely ridiculous might I add. I only intercepted that whole drama gangbang so that you _wouldn't_ get cursed. Or now in your case, someone _else_ cursed."

Harry felt a little defensive. "I didn't do it on _purpose_."

"No. But you still got Hermione hit. You _could have been_ hit. Curses aren't something to play around with, no matter how blonde the asshat is."

Harry felt the need to resist rolling his eyes. "He had it coming."

"Did he now," Gwen deadpanned unimpressed.

"He did. You should have heard the names he was calling Hermione, Ron and Neville."

"Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me," Gwen quoted a muggle saying.

Harry grinned and shook his head. "Says the witch who threatened to, and I quote 'roast that ugly head of yours alive' to Pansy right before that all happened."

Gwen colored. "It was a slip of the tongue."

Harry smiled. "It was nice that you stood up for Hermione like that. I know she won't forget it."

Gwen shrugged with a grin and nodded over to her friends eating. "Well since you're by yourself tonight Mister Potter, would you mind 'having tea with me'?" she grinned playfully, adding in a pretty horrible english accent to the end of her sentence.

"As long as I can eat as well as drink your tea I guess," Harry answered.

"Oh thank Merlin. I thought I'd never eat again," Gwen said marching off to her friends.

* * *

Halfway into eating dinner, Gandalf the Grey Owl landed next to Harry with a small scroll attached to his foot. Harry looked up immediately beside him and found Gwen already looking intently at the paper in his hands.

"Good job Gandalf," she said distractedly, staring at Harry. Gwen's friends zoned them out and continued on with their conversation of the moment without them. "Well come on. Open it up. Let's see what he has to say about it," Gwen urged.

Harry unrolled the letter, the lure of Sirius's response to strong to ignore.

_Harry-_

_I can't say everything I'd like to in a letter, it's far too risky in case the owl is intercepted - we need to talk face to face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November?_

_If you say you trust this girl from Magnavox, then Harry, I know I have nothing to fear. It's an amazement though that you know how to transphere memories into a pensieve. Your mother would have been proud. Moony too. _

_I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself, and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. _

_Be on watch Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd as quickly as you can._

_- Sirius_

Harry looked up from the parchment and Gwen followed a moment after. She looked to Harry with wide eyes. "He's coming to Hogwarts?"

Harry didn't know what to say. It was what the note said, but it couldn't be true! Sirius couldn't risk himself like that! Harry shook his head and folded up the note. "I don't know."

* * *

**Next Chapter: Dragons, secrets and badassery. **

**So, now it's your turn. tell me how it did. REVIEW!**

**~Missmusicluver**


End file.
